Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Don't I Wish
If you are on Facebook, you occasionally see questions bounced around by your friends, such as do you still wash dishes by hand or do you have an artificial Christmas tree? These are put out there, I suppose, as conversation starters or to see who you have what in common with. Another such question I’ve seen is “do you still remember your house phone number from when you were a child?”
I always find it hard to believe that someone wouldn’t remember that number. I suppose the current generation of young adults were raised on cell-phones, so they won’t understand. But for anyone raised in the eighties or before, for any of us who were born and raised in the same house, or even the same town, forgetting that phone number would be like forgetting our birthdate.
And for a lot of us, it might still be the number we call when we need to talk to Mom and Dad.
When I was in my early twenties, living in Colorado with a new husband and a new baby in a new house, I would call that number and as soon as I heard the ring on the other end, I felt like I was at home. I was safe and secure. I could be a kid again coz Mom or Dad would answer that phone back in Wisconsin and they would still take care of me.
Don’t I wish that was still the case. Instead of things being the other way around.
Mom and Dad with their dog Mac the first time they came out to visit me in Colorado.
Garden of The Gods, Colorado Springs, 1984