This morning, I chatted with a friend on the phone for fifteen minutes. I had to fumble for the right words after many days largely homebound, but just hearing her voice was balm for my heart.
After I got off the phone, I realized I
wanted needed more real voice-to-voice connection with people I love. I tried video-calling my sister Rache, but couldn’t reach her.
My family and I scrunched into frame to wish one family friend a belated happy birthday. She was out looking at adopting a puppy, so our call was short, but the loving connection very real.
I called another family friend to say hey and send her husband happy birthday wishes. We didn’t connect, so I then called my kids’ grandma and great grandma. They’ve been homebound for a year, a situation that’s become more intense for them the last week or two, so I figured they’d appreciate a chance to see their grandkids bouncing and running circles. I was not wrong.
That call ended with an inbound call with the friends we hadn’t reached earlier. The parent-folk of our two households talked for probably 45 minutes, which is more than we’ve talked in a year or two.
When this morning’s calls ended, my heart felt so full. While these friends and I have always been just a call away, life is always so busy that I tend to postpone calls for next week, or a week after that.
I’m not glad for the pandemic that’s reminded me and my menfolk to connect with our dear friends. I am, however, glad for the opportunity this locally mandated slow-down has afforded us to connect with those whom we love.
That showing love gets lost in all the bustle of getting by seems to me, today, an enormous tragedy. I don’t know how to ensure I get the balance right in the future, no matter how busy it gets, but I did want to capture this morning’s conversations here … the better to build in my bones the knowledge that, when it comes down to it, these moments of loving connection are the very best thing life has to offer.
I simply need to make the call.