Call before Christmas

A call to my parents before Christmas.

As we were talking, mum started sniffing.
Christmas and holiday seasons children go home,
And families are reunited.
Her colleagues talk of the warmth and love
When their children come home.
But I'm not anywhere home.

How guilty she felt, mum said.
It was thirteen when she left,
Thirteen when I was alone for the first time.
I cried at Christmas, at New Years, at Easter too.
But that was then.
And this is now.
The holidays have lost their meaning,
The time for reunion have lost their effect.
And I cry no more.

But mum did, and today still does.