On Hold

 The first time I can remember getting a phone call that changed my life was just before Memorial Day in my ninth grade year. I talked on the phone with a friend who was interested in what I had to say about all the churning thoughts and emotions that were swirling about my adolescent head. We talked for two and a half hours, and this conversation served as the seed for my Great American Novel, in which I laid out my vision for avoiding heartbreak and dealing with disparate personalities in that time of great upheaval. Or at least upheaval that seemed massive from my perspective. For those of you who tune in here regularly you have that interaction to thank for what you are currently reading. The fire that was lit way back then that got me sharing all my words with anyone with the time to read them still burns brightly here. 

Not all these phone calls were happy, of course. In college I came home to an empty apartment with a message from my mother telling me not to call back but to come straight over to my parents' house. Proving that I have never been great about following explicit directions, I called my mother. She was in tears and insisted that we shouldn't talk on the phone. Didn't I get the message? So, being the dutiful son that I am, I hopped in my car and drove across town with a head full of possible outcomes to be met by my mother and father at the front steps with the news that my friend and roommate had been killed in a car crash. I still wonder if it would have been better to have received this information in person, where I collapsed onto my parents' front lawn or if I could have had that moment in my living room near a couch. 

Then there was the time that I called the girl that I had been visiting in California. We had only parted a few hours before, having spent a little extra time hanging out together in the San Francisco airport after I had missed my flight. It was just enough time to consider all the possibilities, and on the plane ride back to Colorado I made up my mind to join her there on the left hand side of the country. This was the beginning of our great "What if?" adventure, and it continues today.

Most recently, I was availed of the convenience of a cellular telephone and Bluetooth earbuds for receiving calls on the go. All this technology allowed me to get the news from my older brother that my mother had passed. I was halfway up the hill near my house, running to shake off the worry that I would soon be getting the update that came just the same. It was a quick call, and it was then that I turned around and came home to make a series of my own difficult phone calls. Each time I run past that spot now I get a twinge. But I keep running. 

These are not all the phone calls that have shaped the course of my life. I expect the list will continue to grow and evolve. I'll continue to pick up if you call. Just to see what happens next.