I have a changed relationship with my cell phone. It seems silent these days. I rarely look at it intensely wondering when she will call, or if I should call (Hi Kalei, just checking in...). I don't pick it up at the end of the day before leaving work to see if she's catching a ride home with me or taking a bus home later. I no longer take it to bed with me as I did religiously on the nights that she slept at Jonah's house; I would change the ring tone to soft, place in next to my pillow, and sleepily awaken when she called to report she'd arrived (safely) at his house (me: You're at Jonah's? Anyone home? Kalei: Uh, Jonah's at work, his roommate's up, Milo's here. me: Ok, good night, honey. K: goodnight, mom. I'll call you tomorrow). These calls were sold as for her safety and my peace of mind, and she must have decided they were a small price to pay for freedom, because she was consistent. When Kalei lived at home (oh how strange it is to write these words) this cell was my connection to her, like some small silver surrogate daughter, and now it feels a bit like the phantom limb one reads about. I know I can pick up my silent cell and call anytime, but the daily expectations and rituals of contact we set up are no more. And that is how it should be. It seems oddly natural that she makes the call about when to call...at least some of the time. I had an urge to call at the end of my work day today, but then thought, nah, it's already Friday night there, not the best time to talk with your parents. So tomorrow, I'll pick up my quiet little sidekick and give the girl a call... after Mark and I come back from early morning snorkeling at Shark's Cove on the North Shore. Yeah, this empty nest thing has a few benefits after all.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Our Bodies, our Cells
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1 comment:
Hi Rachel.
I agree about the cell phone. I have not been a fan of them, and until last summer did not own one. I eventually caved, but until T went to Humboldt I forgot to charge it or left it at home as often as not, since no one called me on it. Now it is religiously charged, and I check the mode frequently (vibrate in church, on HIGH the rest of the time so I can hear it, in case my purse is far away) and I so enjoy the little *bing* it makes when she texts me. We agreed on two calls a week; she would initiate one and I would, and I comment on her Facebook page, and sometimes we text... but now the phone is my little pocket demigod, fed and tended carefully for the love and communication it yields.
Yeah, those merry-go-round arguments are a bitch... being conscious of your triggers and vowing not to respond ahead of time helps, but it's hard. I have more of those with my son (I mentioned him in my blog) than my daughter. Such self discipline to be a parent!
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