… my mom likes to text.
This shouldn’t be a problem, right? Texting is fine. It’s quick, it’s reliable (well, unless your phone has auto-correct), it’s inexpensive. Mom works crazy hours; she holds down a part-time shift work job as a licensed practical nurse at a nursing home, plus she has her own business offering staff training and educational services. She’s impossible to get in touch with most of the time, and so when she got a cell phone I think all of her kids breathed a collective sigh of relief.
But then she started texting.
I blame my youngest sister, who is 23 and can thus probably replicate War & Peace entirely in text form, complete with appropriate emoticons, in less than five minutes. She started texting Mom, who after an initial period of resistance started texting back. And then upgraded to a smartphone so she could text more efficiently. And now mentions, at least once during every phone conversation we have, that texting is better than anything – better than phone calls, emails, puppies, or unicorns farting rainbows.
So I tried texting, both her and youngest sister, because they both say texting is preferred. Fine. Only for some unknown reason, my simple little clamshell completely-not-smart-at-all phone seems unable to talk to their zingy phones. All they get is a blank screen from my number. Sometimes when I want them to call me, I just send them the blank message; they call, we chat, and I get increasingly frustrated that the more options we have to connect to other humans the less I actually seem to fucking TALK to anyone.
It’s really too bad passenger pigeons went extinct. I would totally be all up in that business, yo.
Everything I could possibly have written today seemed really trite and foolish in the wake of @Whymommy’s death. I decided to just give ‘er and waste some space on the silliest thing ever. Suffice it to say, I’m hugging my kids a little tighter today, and thanking god that I and my family are blessed with health.