The ensuing narrative concerns the date when I reached legal age. On this date, at last Momma picked up the phone to call her only child, me. But this was one phone call I dreaded rather than hoped for. I shall commence by stating that others tell my family matters, Momma matters and that we are joined together by our heritage and shared family life. That might be true, if Momma had ever been around, but she couldn’t bother to be present and I can no longer bother to experience a sense of being joined to her.