Still in the Middle

I stir in the dead of the night.

I hear a soft voice,

 'Mummy'

But wait, all my kids have gone from home and he-who-sleeps-with-me calls me by my name

I am awake.

Clearly nobody has said anything in the darkness...just one of those sound impressions which continue in your head as reality sinks in.

Who did it sound like?

Actually, in such a low tone it could have been any of them.

But the eldest is tripping in Australia, taking a little time out. When we last spoke on Skype she'd seen enough of incessant rain but was upbeat, adjusting to hostel-life and about to throw herself into some exciting mini-trips. She'd also been thinking about what she really wants for her future.  

Middle child in her final year at uni has an important interview date in a couple of months. We spent our most recent Skype-chat flinging pictures to and fro, discussing whether she wanted to send the staid, formal, better quality image or the relaxed and approachable, less HD version. The latter is how she likes to be; it should go.

Independent life is a new challenge for the youngest, particularly when he feels ill. Intelligence doesn't mean he knows how to access appropriate medical advice; he has internet access to compare his sore throat and headache with symptom lists and decide that even without any known contacts it MUST be 'glange' ( = glandular fever), yet he fails to buy a few paracetamols to ease the pain.

It's still dark.

Paranoia could grow at this point, but the voice didn't sound anxious, almost inquisitive.

I choose to sleep again, breathing a prayer for their safety.

Morning comes, an alarm calling me from a vivid dream; I am dancing on a cobbled street in an exotic location!

Perhaps the sense of Mom in the Middle will never go away. 

They may not be within earshot, but I can't tune out.