Your call cannot be completed as dialed.
On Sunday, the weather was gorgeous. Even though I had gone hiking the day before and had planned to spend all of Sunday being responsible and doing grown-up chores, the day was so sunny and warm, the bright blue sky polka-dotted white with clouds, that I kept staring through the windows, wishing I were out there. By mid-day I couldn't resist the temptation anymore, and I put on my hiking boots and drove to a nearby nature trail, just to get outside for a little bit without blowing off too many other things. It's a short walk, just a quick two miles on a beautiful trail that winds through the woods and then turns to boardwalk over a marsh formed by a natural spring.
My mom called me while I was out there (and I answered, because I always answer), and I talked to her for a few minutes, and then suddenly in mid-sentence my mom was no longer there. Instead, I could hear ringing, like you do when you call someone and you're waiting for them to pick up. When I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it, wondering what the hell was happening, the screen showed a call in progress with my friend Marcia. As I stared it, the call disconnected, just as mysteriously as it had begun. When I fumbled with the phone, disconcerted, it dialed Marcia again, and this time I let it ring and ring. I didn't expect her to answer. She didn't.
Marcia had been dying from lung cancer for two years. In the last few weeks, she stopped answering her phone, and responding to emails or text messages. She and her daughter board their horses at a barn near my house, and I would go visit them when our schedules coincided. The last time I stopped by, her daughter was there alone, which was when I really knew Marcia was almost gone. Nothing kept her from the barn. That's the way it is with horse people.
I'm sure you all know where this is going. On Monday morning the word went out, via email and Facebook and phone call and text message, that Marcia had died on Sunday.
But I think I knew that already. I knew, as I stood there on the boardwalk on a beautiful day and watched my phone futilely dial a number will never be answered again, that she was already gone.
Marcia Bobek
Image Description: Boardwalk through a grassy marsh, blue sky and green trees in the background.
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My mom called me while I was out there (and I answered, because I always answer), and I talked to her for a few minutes, and then suddenly in mid-sentence my mom was no longer there. Instead, I could hear ringing, like you do when you call someone and you're waiting for them to pick up. When I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it, wondering what the hell was happening, the screen showed a call in progress with my friend Marcia. As I stared it, the call disconnected, just as mysteriously as it had begun. When I fumbled with the phone, disconcerted, it dialed Marcia again, and this time I let it ring and ring. I didn't expect her to answer. She didn't.
Marcia had been dying from lung cancer for two years. In the last few weeks, she stopped answering her phone, and responding to emails or text messages. She and her daughter board their horses at a barn near my house, and I would go visit them when our schedules coincided. The last time I stopped by, her daughter was there alone, which was when I really knew Marcia was almost gone. Nothing kept her from the barn. That's the way it is with horse people.
I'm sure you all know where this is going. On Monday morning the word went out, via email and Facebook and phone call and text message, that Marcia had died on Sunday.
But I think I knew that already. I knew, as I stood there on the boardwalk on a beautiful day and watched my phone futilely dial a number will never be answered again, that she was already gone.
Marcia Bobek
Image Description: Boardwalk through a grassy marsh, blue sky and green trees in the background.
Count von Count would like you to know that over at Dreamwidth this post has
comments! Ah ha ha ha ha!