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	<title>closeness &#8211; Vicki Tapia</title>
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	<description>Author &#124; Adventurer &#124; Advocate</description>
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		<title>Calling Mom</title>
		<link>https://vickitapia.com/2018/12/calling-mom/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Vicki Tapia]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Dec 2018 20:41:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Blogging]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Christmas season]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[closeness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[coping]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[imagination]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[memories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mothers]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? Houses decked out with sparkly lights, framing trees shimmering through living room windows . . . ‘Tis the season. I can almost taste Mom’s homemade almond roca, peanut brittle or fudge. Mmm . . . This time of year, I especially miss my mom. Truthfully, I remember only a handful of times during our lives that we didn’t spend Christmas together, so I suppose it’s natural to feel a void. If we can’t be together, I wish I might at least call her up to hear her voice, but sadly acknowledge this possibility disappeared with her passing ten years ago. Perhaps I should have moved on by now, but, nope, I still feel that same empty place in my heart. Over time, I have created another way to feel a closeness—I call her up in a different way, by conjuring her voice in my head. “We” carry on an internal conversation and I realize this ability to “talk” with her is limitless. A feeling of comfort settles around me, as I imagine her voice speaking soft words of endearment, during this season of love.]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img loading="lazy" class="size-medium wp-image-411 alignleft" src="http://vickitapia.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/mourad-saadi-492065-unsplash-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://vickitapia.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/mourad-saadi-492065-unsplash-200x300.jpg 200w, https://vickitapia.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/mourad-saadi-492065-unsplash-768x1151.jpg 768w, https://vickitapia.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/mourad-saadi-492065-unsplash-684x1024.jpg 684w, https://vickitapia.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/mourad-saadi-492065-unsplash-1140x1708.jpg 1140w" sizes="(max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" /><em>Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?</em> Houses decked out with sparkly lights, framing trees shimmering through living room windows . . . <em>‘Tis the season</em>. I can almost taste Mom’s homemade almond roca, peanut brittle or fudge. Mmm . . .</p>
<p>This time of year, I especially miss my mom. Truthfully, I remember only a handful of times during our lives that we didn’t spend Christmas together, so I suppose it’s natural to feel a void. If we can’t be together, I wish I might at least call her up to hear her voice, but sadly acknowledge this possibility disappeared with her passing ten years ago.</p>
<p>Perhaps I should have moved on by now, but, nope, I still feel that same empty place in my heart. Over time, I <em>have</em> created another way to feel a closeness—I <em>call her up</em> in a different way, by conjuring her voice in my head. “We” carry on an internal conversation and I realize <em>this</em> ability to “talk” with her is limitless.</p>
<p>A feeling of comfort settles around me, as I imagine her voice speaking soft words of endearment, during this season of love.</p>
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