I have been talking to my mother since before I could talk. She loves to say I was “vaccinated with a phonograph needle!” And she loves to tell the story of how she would wake up in the morning to find me standing beside her bed, midway through some kind of story I needed her to hear! Through the years, as I moved away and into adulthood, we continued to talk. My father used to shake his head in wonder, “What on earth do you two have to talk about so much?” And I couldn’t tell you. But I miss all of those talks. I miss them sorely.