One of the most comforting sounds to me from the time I can remember is the sound of my mother's voice. It's not just the sound, really, more a combination of the sound and the feel of her voice. As a small child one of my favorite things to do was to curl up in her lap and put my head on her chest and quietly listen to the sound of her voice. I could feel her voice, the vibrations of her words through her body, and nothing since, no sound, no touch, no word, no smell has ever comforted me the way that simple feel of her could. As I grew older and could no longer sit on her lap, I would still sit next to her, place my head on her shoulder, and just listen. And feel.
It didn't matter what she was saying, who she was talking to, or what book she may have been reading – just the simple act of having my head so close to her, and the vibrations of her words paired with her sound and her warmth were like the ultimate bear hug. I have often wondered if it is similar to the sounds and feels I must have experienced as a baby in her womb – hearing her and feeling her… similarly, I often wonder if my voice is as comforting to my own three children.
After my mom's stroke, there were a lot of things that changed. One of which was her voice. She lost her voice – and while she works hard to recover and gain her strength, her voice has not really come back – yet. She talks in a heavy whisper. Often times it is really hard to understand her when I'm with her – and extremely hard to understand when we're talking on the phone.
I miss so many things about my mom – cooking together, shopping together, going out for our mother-daughter "coffee talks" where we'd drink ourselves silly with Starbucks latte's and wile away an entire afternoon talking about anything and everything. But the thing I miss the most? The feel of her voice. The comfort of laying my head on her shoulder, listening to her talk, hearing her. Feeling her.
Oh Mommy, how I long to lay my head on your shoulder – to feel your warmth – to hear your words.
I miss you so.