The other day I felt a bit jealous of the friend who was giving me a mani/pedi. I’ve known my friend for only fifteen months but in this time frame I have learned that she routinely calls her family on her way to and from work every day. Not just every once in awhile, but every day she has someone that she calls. This may not be earth shattering news or something you would be jealous about but I think it is thoughtful and worth mentioning.

Before this same friend’s grandmother passed away, she called her every single day. She said the convos would vary from 5 minutes to sometimes 30 minutes. It depended on what was going on in their lives at the moment. After that call to her grandmother, my friend would make the rounds. She calls her parents, mostly to talk to her mom but her dad is always close by to chime in. Then she adds in calls to her friends and other family members. On this particular mani/pedi day for me, I was feeling jealous of her phone routine. She was telling me that she called her uncle once a week and she always ended the call with, “I love you.” She had been calling her uncle for years the exact way every time. She said that because his daughter (her cousin) has been very sick lately, he now returns the ”I love you” back to her; before that he never said it. After all those weekly calls for years, he finally says it. As my friend was telling me this, I was fixated on the fact that her uncle was someone she faithfully called every week. However, my friend’s purpose for sharing the story of her uncle was to demonstrate how illness could make people change after the realization that life is fragile.

I used to talk on the phone a lot. Like a lot. When I was in junior high, my sewing project for the Home Economic final was a pillow shaped like a telephone. I got a good grade on the pillow because the pattern included sewing on orange felt squares which represented the buttons for the digits on the phone. And even though I wasn’t allowed to call boys when I was growing up, if they called me, I was allowed to talk for hours. In fact, I had my very own phone line in our house because if I used our main line, no one else would be able to use the phone.

I think I was feeling a bit jealous of my friend’s calling routine because I don’t call ANYONE anymore. Well, I I do have one stand-in call every single week. Like clockwork, I can count on my friend Reena to call me at our set time every Tuesday morning for our walk/talk. I look forward to it every week. When I lived in MN, Reena and I didn’t talk on the phone at all. We would walk around Lake Harriet and talk. Now that I live in Denver, we talk every single week for an hour. However, these days, I don’t call my brother, my cousin Jay-Jay, my SIL Hailey, my two BILs John and Frank. These were my people. The ones I would talk to all the time. There are several factors that come into play as to why I don’t talk on the phone much anymore.

1. I’m always driving my kids around which means they are in the car with me and I don’t want them to hear my convos.

2. Again, I’m always driving and my commutes are at the most 25 minutes. But the majority of the commutes are only 5-15 minutes long so to start a convo is pretty tough for both parties involved.

3. I’m horrible at multi-tasking while talking on the phone so I won’t start a call if I have to run into a store or if I am writing my blog or working on something that requires full attention.

4. This NFL season, I have been diligent in keeping up with the Broncos. I listen to all the press conferences, the news and the shows on Broncos 365 etc. while I’m in the car. This doesn’t leave much time to talk on the phone.

5. Usually the car rides with the kids are when we catch up on our calendar and “to do” lists as well as learning life lessons and listening to my lectures.

6. If I have any free time in the car, I am trying to keep up on Michele Tafoya’s Sideline Sanity podcast or listen to the new Taylor Swift cd. (yes, I still have a cd player in my car)

7. About 2-3 years ago, prior to Covid, I made a life style change. It’s been hard, but to stay positive means I should not gossip. Sometimes, depending on who I am talking to, I find myself talking behind people’s backs and I wanted that to stop.

8. Last but not least, because I like to talk a lot - I’m an over-sharer - it doesn’t give much space for the person on the other end to be heard. Because I don’t think it’s fair or balanced, I tend not to call to start a conversation.

So there you have it. I pretty much do not call family or friends ever. It doesn’t mean I don’t think of them - I reach out, but primarily via text. Texting keeps convos in their lanes; cutting down on unnecessary talking or diversions from the main intention for reaching out.

These may seem like very thoughtful reasons to avoid talking on the phone but in the end, I’m only hurting myself because I miss out on a lot.

Speaking of daughters, I remember when my friend Christy Hanson was sending her daughter off to college, she made her daughter promise to call her and not use Google for everything. At first I didn’t understand what she was saying but then Christy explained that back before Google, we would call our moms or close friends when we needed to know how to do something or to ask why things were the way they were. Because of Google, it’s rare to call for help, we just ask Siri or Alexa or hit “Search” on the apps on our phones. Christy did not want to lose that connection she had with her daughter; the bond of the daughter needing her mother for help. For example, today I was going to call my MIL to ask her how to use a French press coffee maker. But I didn’t call her because I looked at the clock and knew I had to work on some things. If I called to ask her this question, I may be on the phone for a while and I didn’t have time to talk to her today. What a missed opportunity for me.

So that is why I think my mani/pedi friend has a good thing going with her daily calling routine - she could easily ask questions about French presses because she is already talking to her mom as she is driving to/from work. I really admire her daily routine. One of our Broncos players had a similar routine with his grandmother before she passed away, he called her every Monday. I loved hearing about his ritual because he is half my age and he actually uses the phone function on his cell phone which gives me hope that talking on the phone is not a lost art with the youth.

I fantasize that I will have blocks of time to sit on a couch and talk on the phone with my besties. Or even use my speaker function on my phone and talk to my cousins while I am cooking. Or use my ear buds when I’m walking the dogs so that I can catch up on my brother’s latest business idea. But I’m lame and I do not do any of the above. Years from now I should not expect my daughter to call me if I do not call my own mom. But things could change.

Today I called three people. It was so good to hear all of their voices. I called my BIL, John, to ask him about his plans for his 60th birthday which will be in a couple of weeks. Usually it takes John two or three calls into me before I finally call him back. I am horrible. Next I called our family friend Julie Bonds who deserved a call days ago because she has gone thru a lot recently. And the third person I called earlier today was our friend Andrew, a.k.a Roly, to wish him a happy 50th birthday. I loved getting the details of how Roly was celebrating his special day. He told me that his brother had given him some thoughtful pinches like a pair of socks for his birthday. I commented that socks are perfect for Roly because he has everything he needs or wants and Roly agreed. He said that calls from family and friends like me are all he ever needs and wants. I know he means that because years ago, maybe 8-10 years ago, he told me that whenever it is his birthday, he takes inventory of life. He assess where he is financially, romantically and who his close friends are at that time and then he calls them - even though it is his birthday. I was really glad that I called him first on his special milestone birthday.

Pinches,

Barb