"I need to tell you something ...."

My weekly phone call with Debbie ran two hours tonight. She had broken one of the bones in her foot, so we talked about that. I talked about the professional conference I was at earlier in the week, and about some possible job opportunities that might materialize in the future. Also I've bought plane tickets to go visit her and her family next month, so we talked about that.

After two hours, or almost, I suggested it might be time for us to call it quits. She agreed that she really had to go pee. But then she said, "I need to tell you something."

You remember that at this point she is living with her daughter Mattie, with Mattie's husband, and with their two sons—Debbie's grandchildren. And she explained that yesterday there had been a bit of a conflict of some kind. She didn't say what it was over. She did say that it had all been resolved. But she added that she had felt at the time like she really wanted to talk to me about it. And this feeling had made her realize "what you do for me." And she wanted me to know that.

I added that, for my part, the reason I spent so much time talking about these highly theoretical future job opportunities was that I really wanted to hear her take on them, that knowing her opinion would make a difference as I tried to settle on my own. And then we finally wound up: "Love you, talk to you next time." And closed the Zoom session.

I will always love her. And it does seem to be mutual, more or less. It's a nice thing to think.