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The Phone Call You Don’t Want To Get

So the other night I got a phone call. The type that makes you hold your breath. Where tears well up, and boil over, tumbling down your cheeks. The kind where you pray as you listen to the voice on the other end.

The one who gave me life. Bought me up. Loved me. Cherished me. Supported me. That one.

I listened. I umm. I ahhed. I asked questions.

I hung up, and bawled my eyes out.

I can’t fix it. I can’t make it better.

It really was the Phone Call You Don’t Want To Get phone call.

Mrs K

Coke Zero addict, knitter, crocheter, fat, fabulous, fluffy mama.

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3 Responses

  1. My Mummy Daze says:

    Hang in there. Was thinking of you all yesterday with the appointment xxx

  2. Anonymous says:

    I got to this post from Craftster. I'm so sorry you have had bad news.

  3. Ms Kate says:

    Thank you for the support. It's really knocked me for 6, and made me realise how precious the time is that you have here.