book lovers

September 28, 2016

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9.27.16

September 27, 2016

It was late, later than usual, but a friend’s birthday needed to be celebrated first. When I got home, I checked in with my mom and she said it wasn’t too late to call. Denver is two hours behind, but I wasn’t sure how Maga defined late.

Me: Maga! Hi! Sorry to call back so late!

Maga: No problem. Glad you were persistent. If I didn’t have these telephone calls with family to fall back on, it’d be pretty gruesome.

Me: Well, October is a time for gruesome things.

Maga: *chuckles* So, tell me about your next trip.

I did.

Maga: You’re turning into quite the traveler this year.

Me: Yes, well, I figured if I can’t find a place to buy and call home, I might as well go see the world.

Maga: Makes sense to me. I’ll be interested to hear all the things you did.

Apparently it’s my duty to keep on keeping on with the heavy travel schedule and to send postcards from each place I visit, not only because sometimes my travels blocks our Tuesday phone calls, but because everyone loves mail. And now that I’m traveling for two…

conversations with strangers #134

September 24, 2016

9.22.16

Him: “How often is it happening?”

Me: “I lose an hour every 7 days.”

They say time is relative. Time is fleeting. All in due time. Time after time. In the nick of time. Time flies when you’re having fun.

And you can literally lose time when the gears and inner workings of your watch break.

9.20.13

September 20, 2016

It was one of our longest calls yet. One full of juicy tales and good old fashioned gossip. The kind best washed down with a shirley temple or a chocolate milkshake. The type better left between the two giggling gals who traveled down tangents and traversed family lines and rehashed memories. The repeated questions and repeated answers were more about having a familiar voice on the line. A balm for a lonely heart. Time spent with nothing much said but everything learned.

9.13.16

September 13, 2016

After a few mishaps with our phone connection, Maga and I persevered. I regaled her with tales of my recent trip to Nashville, a city I’d never been to before but will absolutely positively definitely be visiting again.

“I didn’t travel much when I was young. Nana and I went to the Cape for summers, but that was it. We didn’t travel like you do.”

“But, Maga, I’m not that young.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I mean, yes, relatively speaking, but when you were 35, you were married and traveling all over the world with Jobo.”

“I guess you’re right. When you put it like that…I’m just sorry my travelings are over now. I guess that happens when you’re 95.”

“Yes, but you went all over the world before now. Think of ALL those memories.”

“And pictures. I have a little bit of everything. I’m lucky in that regard. I’m told your mom did a good job cleaning the house this weekend. I hope she didn’t throw away the picture albums.”

“No. She wouldn’t do that without your consent.”

“I moved there in 1954. How long ago was that?”

“62 years.”

“And to think of all the stuff I’ve accumulated in that length of time.”

Wisdom. Grace. A sense of humor. Social skills. A broad world view. Love. An ever expanding family. Fortunately none of those can be accidentally thrown away.