In our fast paced world of booming technology rarely do we ever not know who is on the other end of a phone call. We peek down at the screen and instantaneously decide if we have time to answer. What if we no longer had instant gratification as to who was calling, would you still answer?
The other day my two year old daughter hands me her play phone and asked me to answer. “Mama, it’s for you.” I lovingly asked who was calling me. So happily she looked and me and said “Aunt Carol Mama, it’s Aunt Carol”. My heart was over come with grief and I am ashamed to say I became angry. I told her it wasn’t funny and I couldn’t talk.
My sister Carol passed away almost two years ago from metastatic breast cancer. She was 29, with two children and a husband. My soul aches. I miss her more than I could ever put into words. My daughter never met her Aunt.
Norah would not take no for an answer, she kept insisting that I answer this phone. My heart was so resistant and my eyes started having that misty fog that happens right before the flood gates of emotion are unleashed. I just couldn’t hold it back and my grief started leaking from my eyes. And, somehow she knew exactly what I needed, Norah told me to just answer the phone, that it was okay, it was just Aunt Carol.
I answered. I said hello to the plastic pretend phone.
Silence. She wasn’t there.
I couldn’t hold it in, the leaking eyes became the Niagara Falls of crying.
Norah grabbed the phone back and with the bigheartedness that only a two year possesses she simply went “huh, she went bye-byes”.
Logic knows Carol was never there. My heart questions. Why did I have to screen a pretend phone call. Why didn’t I just go with the flow. C.S. Lewis noted “No one ever told me grief felt so like fear”. My soul feels these words. If she calls again, I’ll swallow my fear and say “hey” much sooner.