When I was nine I went to live with my Grandparents. I didn’t know it at the time but my “visit” was going to last for six years. I remember when I was living with them how I forgot what it felt like to call out “Mom” or “Dad” as a child in a house. I remember going to friends houses and hearing them shout for their parents or ask them to pass the ketchup or answer the phone and it sounded foreign to me. When I would be alone in the house I would call out the words into the silence to try them on for shape and feel. Mom. Dad.
When I moved back in with my Mother at the age of fifteen I greatly remember the novelty of being able to call out “Mom” and hearing a reply. It was like calling out some delicious world like “dulce” or “baliage”.