St. Valentine
The first time my former husband was introduced to my mom was Valentine’s Day, 2002. Ricky and I had been dating long-distance for four months and he had made the 14-hour drive from Connecticut to North Carolina for our first calendar-and-cards-and-chocolates-certified day of romance. We were still new, especially having spent so little time in one another’s company. During those first four months and for the following eleven, most of our budding love happened on the phone. We would spend hours and hours and hours talking. He was smart, charming, and witty. I was creative, Southern, and giggly. What I remember most about those late-night conversations, aside from a phone that couldn’t last as long as we could talk, was the laughter.
It was poetic, given our monthly bills and calling card expenses, that Ricky would meet Mom in a similar fashion. Back then, just over 15 years ago, most of us university residence hall occupants did our telephone talking on a cordless landline. (For those unfamiliar with the term, imagine a telephone that does not Instaface your life and one that has to be returned to an actual base to recharge.) Those ancient boxes for conversation often came with a once revolutionary fixture called an answering machine. Even more unbelievable, people used to listen to their messages.
And so it was that while reviewing Valentine’s Day voices on a machine and in the company of my first “real” Valentine, we heard Mom begin to sing…
I just called to say I love you
I just called to say how much I care
I just called to say I love you
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
Ricky was in love. With Mom. Continue reading “#28: Meridian”
Kitty Eveling 