We've Come a Long Way, Baby

Wednesday I was sitting in the St. Louis Airport, having just had lunch, waiting for my flight. It is common for me to break out the 40 lb. laptop and do some work, but today the emails were flying fast and furious and I was handling all this on my Blackberry. Smaller, easier, not as conspicuous in dealing with fairly short responses. These were email strings where people were responding to short answers.
Earlier, during lunch I had checked my daughter's blogs and made a true comment about how much alike my 6-year-old grandson was like his momma. Apparently his momma took exception to the way I characterized her nature (in a good-humored way)

So in floated a text message about custard pie being made (my favorite) and how I wouldn't get any because I was ugly about her, but there might be some forgiveness anyway. A funny little message followed by 4 exchanges, each shorter than the previous until the last message from my daughter of one word. I laughed and felt warm about the funny little exchange that happened in the midst of a busy day. Probably not all that funny to anyone else, but special to me. Connected by a satellite miles above the earth, through technology that I know nothing about. If asked to describe the technology of cell phones I would revert to my cave-man ancestors and simply grunt and turn monosyllabic.

But it occurred to me that the technology allowed me a moment with my daughter that was unavailable just a few years ago. A few years ago I would have had to wait until I could call, then be mindful of the long-distance charges (yes, kids they used to charge for long distance) and the moment would have been lost. The direct connection made the spontaneity priceless. But why text? Why not call? The instant connection is still there. I think there may be a couple of reasons. 1. The responses can be offered in our own time frame, we don't have to drop what we are doing to respond.
2. airports make visiting difficult, you can't hear, you are conscious of strangers listening in. 3. My eldest and I enjoy the routine of putting our thoughts into written words. I love to write what I feel, to explore the way words can be used to communicate fear, love, warmth, mild teasing. I have had at least one of these with each of my kids over the past few months, and they all leave me content and a feeling of "home" in my fly-around world.

This sense of community is one that I'm sure is driving sociology professors into orbit. Churches are struggling with what this means. Younger generations are redefining "together"
But I like the ability to reach out and have a moment with a loved one, hundreds of miles away, yet as close as my Blackberry. We can now truly speak to each other at any time, in any place. Community draws from our time together, but now does not require it.

Oh I still prefer the physical presence, the hugs, the laughter, the snuggling on the couch. But our world does not allow this type of constant interaction. So instead of railing against the intrusion of technology, I've come to embrace it, to value the moments it gives me, across the miles into the heart of those I hold dear.

Godspeed, as the old ad used to say, reach out and touch someone.
Don