When I start to feel panic, I sit down take a moment to sit and think to calm the nerves. Then every single time, like clockwork, I hear,
Just wanted to wish you a good day. I’ll be thinking about you. You got this. You’re good. You’ll be alright mamas. Talk to you later. Love you. Bye.
Then like clockwork, I cry and I cry like a baby.
My dreams were your dreams and as I start my sixth year—another year without you—I think back to that moment. Not the moment of the voicemail. No, but the first moment you took out your phone and almost maxed out your memory recording every single inch of that classroom. I didn’t say a word. I just took it all in. That’s the moment I go back to—like clockwork—I find ease.