Still missing my mother

I missed my mother badly yesterday. I wanted to tell her about my talk at the Buxton Festival; that I'd spent some of the money she left me on buying my sister's old car; that my son has broken his wrist, falling off a Ripstick, and she'd say "Is he taking arnica?" and then "What's a Ripstick?"

I wanted to tell her that I haven't cut the grass for two weeks, because every time I go outside to do it, it starts to rain. I'd like to tell her that her house still hasn't sold, but that my lovely brother is keeping the garden looking beautiful. (See the pictures.) I'd like to tell her that we are all ringing each other up far more often than we ever did before, but even so, she had no right to go and die and leave us all behind.

But I'd settle for not telling her any of these things if I could just come home and hear her voice on the answerphone "Ma here."