Phone Calls

I am not a phone person. I seldom call anyone to chat. I love my Blackberry but I use it mostly for emergency calls and to read my e-mail when I'm on the road.

Yesterday while I was writing my blog, my cousin, Barbara, called me. She is exactly 11 months younger than I am and we grew up one block away from each other. We played together a lot when we were kids, our mothers told us about the Birds and Bees at exactly the same time, told us not to tell anyone, and we cousins immediately met to discuss our new knowledge.

We both were married young, but I started my family right away, she went to work as a dental assistant and put her husband through college, including his doctorate. With the exception of her eldest grandson, I have great-grandchildren the ages of her grandkids.

We don't get to see each other a whole lot since she lives in L.A. and I'm about 3 1/2 hours away, but we have spent one week many summers together with our families or parts of our families at church camp, and of course there have been family weddings and funerals--including her husband, my eldest son, and her younger sister.

She called to tell me she'd moved, actually traded houses with her eldest son and his family--about two blocks apart. She brought me up on all the news of her family and the next trip she's going on to Tunisia. She just returned from Russia. She's been everywhere and is determined to continue world traveling until she can't walk. I think that's a great ambition.

My traveling will be confined to things I do for my books and within the United States--but like Barbara, I'll do it until I can't anymore.

The phone call lasted an hour and I loved every minute of it, and I think that's why I didn't finish yesterday's blog--though it is now.

Marilyn a.k.a. F. M. Meredith


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