Thursday, January 13, 2011

The language of love

Sometimes it's hard to imagine what life would be like without all the technology that we have today. I was one of the last hold-outs (among the people that I know) when it came to cell phones. I didn't see a need for one: wasn't a cordless phone for the house landline advanced enough? Eventually I broke down (something about driving 100 miles a day and getting frequent flat tires may have contributed just slightly to that crumbling of my normally iron-clad will), and now a cell phone is a permanent appendage.  I comfort myself with the thought that because it's the least-fancy of the free phones that it is somehow not quite a total sell-out to technology.  I refused to have texting until last year and my phone lacks any frills that might make communicating via text easy.

I don't know why I have that issue. It's not like we are a technology-free household. Honey is an engineer, a computer engineer. We currently have four computers powered on in the house and a few more that are stored in various closets "just in case." We use iPods, have a projector instead of a television, and every time I walk into a Barnes & Noble I gaze with envy at the Nook display. Obviously, technology is here to stay.

Technology is my friend. One of my brothers, whom I'll call Tin Man for the sake of this blog (and yes, there is a story behind that, but that's for another day), recently returned from deployment. While he was away he did not have a cell phone. Since he's been home we've had a running text conversation.  It was during today's conversation that I realized two things:
  1. If technology, specifically the ability to text, were a person I would kiss it because it's made life easier, more connected.
  2. The languages of love are varied.
I once pointed out to my family that even though we constantly make one another lose The Game, it's okay. Saying The Game to some members of the family is like saying as you wish. It means the same thing.  And sometimes it's easier -- and more fun -- to say that than to say I love you.

My texts with my brother are numerous. Rarely are they about anything important. But each and every single one says I love you in our own private way: we quote our favorite shows. We may be saying "I come from the number one city for do you say? Murders" or "That's not Aunt Lindsay's nose" or "The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle" but what it really means is I love you. And I missed that while he was away. That is why I am going to be thankful for technology, for cell phones, for texting.  And Tin Man, this is for you:

Army had a half-day.

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