Back when landlines were common in every house and dialing zero still rung the operator (approx 2005-2010) I had picked up the house phone secretly and rung the switchboard. I’d seen it in movies and had a rough grasp on how it worked. So I did it. I remember the lady on the other end being so sweet, as an adult I recognize the strength she had as well. I was looking for my big brother, my childhood role model. He was deployed to the war in Afghanistan. Through big gulps of air to be strong and speak clearly, I desperately asked her to put me through to him. After a solid pause, more softly now she began to ask if there was anyone closer I’d like to be connected to, for obvious reasons, she couldn’t help. But she had managed to place me through to my grandma on my dad’s side. (My mother kept us away from them) me and grandma Anna talked & I felt better even though it was only a few minutes before my mother ran in and hung up the phone. She scolded me a great deal about what I’d done. As a child and now as an adult, I still can’t fathom her reasoning. I never saw grandma or talked to her again before she died. My brother survived the war even though a great many of his friends and high school classmates didn’t. He came home and has a beautiful family now. Years later when reconnecting with my dad’s side, I’d come to find out grandma talked about that phone call till she died. No one else knew what we talked about or the circumstances leading up to it though, and I’ve never had the heart to tell them the context. I’m not sure why I felt the need to tell this story today. But in the words of the great Labi Siffre, “bless the telephone”.
