hold the phone

As I was walking to my car today, I decided to call my mom. I found my home phone number in my cell and pressed send. Then I heard something I haven't heard in at least a year. I heard a busy signal.

When was the last time you heard a busy signal?

My parents don't own an answering machine. They don't own a computer. They don't use email. My mom figured out how to text message and now I get at least one a week.

It is hard to get into contact with my parents. Since coming to college, I've sped ahead from the primitive tech I knew in high school. If I need to get in touch with someone, I'll email them and they'll read the message at their leisure. I can't do that with my parents. I have to call them on the phone. How intentional is that? That means I have to talk then and there. I can't just have a one way conversation and hang up. I have to listen to them, too.

Do I sound like a bad son yet?

I don't have much contact with my parents nowadays. An occasional phone call. I don't really notice it. Just last week my dad called me after three failed attempts to reach each other. He told me to call my mother. Before I asked why I realized I hadn't talked to her in over two weeks. In fact, it may have been three.

Things are primitive with my parents. Maybe that is a good thing. When I have contact with my parents, things slow down. We really talk about things. We chat about our lives, what is taking up our time, what is annoying us, and what we are looking forward to. I could use that sort of thing in some of my relationships.

I'm living in this world where contact with someone is a brief wall post or a grammar-ignorant text message. The fact that my parents want to talk on the phone is a neat thing. I don't get to see them face to face very often. That is a sad thing.

Maybe I should make the effort to see people face to face. I should appreciate that I can do that.