On my birthday, many people called me. My mom and my sister, they are serial callers. I talk to them every weekend. But then out of the blue, my Aunt also called me. She was going to call me earlier in the day but with the six hour time difference between New York and Hawaii these days, it was only a quarter after five in the morning. I would have been asleep and there is a high likelihood that I would not have picked up. So she sent me an email instead at that time telling me that she had been planning on calling instead but that it was too early. I was impressed that she had emailed me. But then, there she was, calling me at a much more Hawaii friendly time. And I did pick up. And it was great to talk to her. So great that we both wondered to each other why this wasn’t something that happened more often. And who knows, maybe it could be. A thing. A thing that happens more than once year. I would like that.
Then, way later in the day, one of my closest friends from NY called me. I was in the process of dealing with a minor emergency and trying to get all of the things together to go and pick up my son from school. School pick up requires snacks and a drink. When he was younger, he would get really angry if the snack was not to his liking. I generally bring a choice of snacks. Sweet and savory. So that he can choose. Unless I am running late. Or forget. Then I face the snack wrath. So this conversation was kind of cut short. But it was good to hear his voice. We are headed to NY in a couple of months and will invade his home while we are there. He is so gracious. If he didn’t do this, I don’t know where I would stay. I have learned from experience that I really can’t stay with my mother. But that is another story.
Today, again, while I was about to leave to go get my son again, an old co-worker who has since moved to Oregon gave me a call. It was so good to hear his voice as well. We had not spoken in a while. He has a young son and his wife is in law school. They will be moving into their newly purchased home shortly. I am so happy for him. So happy for his family. I love that they are really making it in their new state. I hope that when I finally get myself to Portland that I am able to meet up with him and have some beer. And some good food. And to catch up.
Finally today, in the school pick up area, I ran into one of the dads picking up one of my son’s classmates. I had not seen them since probably last year. We talked about all of the homework that our kids have to deal with in one particular subject. About how we both feel that the teacher is young and trying to prove her worth. Which may or may not be accurate in any way. But we both feel that way. He told me that his son may be transferring to another school. A school designed to better help him out. He has been struggling with work and with depression. He is only 11. I hope that it works out for them. It was a nice chat and I felt buoyed by the discussion.
When I got home I reflected on this. All of this actual phone talking and discussing over the past few days and marveled at what an oddity it has become. And also how entirely wonderful it was. There are so few conversations I have via phone these days. How I feel like I don’t want to actually speak to anyone. How, texting seems so much more preferable. But after these past few days, I think that I am wrong. I think that it is so much more human to talk to someone. To hear their voice. To hear their laugh. Their emotion. It is so much more that I think that I may need to change my evil texting ways. To hear the people I love. Their breath and life. Their feelings. Laughter and love. So if you see my number, pick up, OK? I may just need to hear you.