I just called to say . . .

I probably haven't gone into too much detail about the holidays that I keep, but basically they can last 2-3 days or more. There's no driving around in your car. No shopping. You hang in the neighborhood, see friends and relatives who live nearby. You don't talk on the phone or use your computer or do anything work related. Nope, no teev, either.

By the time the holiday is over you've either gained 5 pounds or there's something seriously wrong with you.

I did my share.

Anyway, after sunset the day is officially over so I volunteered to take my 19-month old granddaughter off to the bathtub so she could go for a swim. R, her mother, waiting by the telephone to hear about a sick uncle, was happy for me to take over with the little tyke.

The kid's very talented and showed me her latest boating maneuvers and an impressive front float, head above water. Ours is a standard 1950's lime green bathtub. We're not talking a jacuzzi here.

I checked phone messages as the kid tired herself out. There was nothing on voice mail nearly as complicated as floating and not getting your hair wet. I had finally convinced her that hair can get wet and nobody gets hurt when the phone vibrated. It was my sister-in-law.

She never calls on a Saturday night.

I got nervous. Bad things have been happening lately. Last week, just before the last holiday, we lost a family member, a young man, only 50. He'd been ill, but no one expected that call. And now R's uncle, also a young man, is really not doing well. These are my peers. People who could have gone to my high school.

S-i-l wanted a recipe for my apple cake.

After I got the baby to sleep on my shoulder while reading aloud from a professional social work book marketing brochure, I went downstairs to do some dishes and call my mom. I never call her on Saturday night. There's something about it, Saturday night. It's always been date night in my head, even though FD and I rarely go out. But my parents used to get baby sitters and go out on Saturday nights.

They're in their 80's (K'H). Dad answered.

"Yello," he said.

He seemed happy to hear from me, but not surprised or anything. Nothing fazes my father. Hardly anything.

"Hi Dad, how're you?"

"We just walked in. We were out with Lenore and Sammy," he said.

Well, of course.

"Did you have fun?"

"Sure, we just came home for a bite to eat."

Sure.

"I'll let you talk to Mom."

You can tell by the way she answers that she's happy that I called.

"How was yuntif (the holiday)?" she exclaims. "How are the kids? It seems like so long. It feels like a week since I've seen or talked to any of you."

It's been 3 days. They're long 3 days.

"Yuntif was great by us, how's by you?"

I'm working on my Yiddish accent. You know that as a Jew ages a Yiddish accent becomes mandatory.

"Very nice. Lenore and Sammy are over."

Of course.

"I'm so glad you called," Mom said. "You and I never talk on Saturday night."

"I know. I just called to say, well, to say hi. You know."

"That was so nice."

"So you guys are okay?"

"Sure. We're fine. It was great that you called."

There's more to that conversation. We were both pretty animated, but still, I don't want to bore you with the details. Basically, you probably know the punchline, why I wrote the post. Right?

It's one of those Don't Hesitate posts. If you think you should make a call, don't hesitate.

You don't think twice.


therapydoc