Re-Connections

Before voice mail and all night television, before I knew what a fax tone was or took offense at the customer who said he was looking for a mouse, before ipods and dvd's and wiper blades that talk to brakes and remote controls for everything and anything, before all of that changed every aspect of our lives, there were books to read and letters to write. It was easy to lose touch. I always meant to stay a proper correspondent but eventually drifted away from writing except for the occasional birthday or Christmas card, hastily scribbled and thrown in the mail at the last minute. Time management took on new meaning in my everyday life and I began running just to keep in place. During that time, I lost touch with old friends and what little family I had left - lost touch and almost lost interest being swept up in my own troubles and struggles and survival. It pains me to admit it, but technology brought me back. Recently I saw an author talking about technology and the state of society, saying that those people who were anti-technology were bound to be depressed because we are a world being propelled into an ever more technological way of life. There is no longer any element of choice about it - adapt or perish.

Though she is well over 2,000 miles away, I was able to re-connect with a friend I have known literally my entire life. And though she is less than 5 minutes away, I have re-connected with a friend I rarely see. Both are precious to me. But mostly I have re-connected with my cousin, Linda, now living in Florida and up to her ears in caregiving and health problems. She is for all intents and purposes, the only family I have left and for years was the only one who stood by me and kept in touch, kept forgiving and understanding, kept caring and showing it, amid her own battles and her own burdens.

In some ways, we live almost in opposition. I am a straight, twice divorced woman living alone with only the responsibilities of a houseful of animals to contend with. She is a gay, 30 years with the same partner, woman whose same sex marriage is not even recognized, caring for an elderly and frail father-in-law and facing potential life threatening issues of health. She was a librarian her entire life, working in schools and prisons and on advisory boards while I have flitted from career to career as needed. She reads and studies serious books while I escape with Stephen King novels. She takes yoga and meditates to feed her soul while I eat chocolate and write nonsense stories. She has spent her life in and out of hospitals, overcoming one adversity after another while I have taken my life mostly for granted. She has known and loved her family and been loved in return while I retaliated. She has her faith and I have my doubt but we both trust in some sort of higher than ourselves power. We share a deep and abiding love of four footed creatures, of music, of independence. Thanks to technology, whatever distance there may be between us has become just geography.

I wonder if I've ever told her thank you.