"Hello Dearest Mother"

“Hello Dearest Mother.”
Came the text message.

She recognized  those familiar words.

The ones he uses.
When he needs something.
She smiled, knowingly.

He, the son, away at college.
Who doesn't usually call.

Four whole miles from home.
Where Dad works.

He probably doesn’t know about the movie,

Mommie Dearest.
She’s thankful he doesn’t call her that.

But, tonight was different.

Just the two of them.
Impromptu suit shopping.
For an event.
With a young woman.

He had always been insistent on brands.

She had always been insistent on sales.
"Buy your own brand names," she’d say.
"Maahhm," he'd say.

This time he didn’t seem to care about brands.

Tonight he was grateful.
Tonight, she was reminiscent.
She knew she was dressing her little boy for the last time.

Working three jobs while going to school.

"How'm I gonna buy all this stuff when I’m on my own.”

She noticed how a grateful heart made a very handsome man.

He noticed how a grateful heart made her a cheerful giver.

Patricia Spreng