When I was younger, it was a big deal when I gave a friend my house phone number. It meant we had reached a new level of friendship. Mostly, it ended up being a way to figure out what the homework was when we were absent or when we had accidentally forgotten our books in school. But sometimes it was just a call. I would walk around my house, thanks to the cordless phones of the 2000’s and be transported. My friend would tell me about her day or her pets or her annoying brother, and I would get a peek into her life. I would then tell her about my day, about having no pets and yet still having a very annoying brother. And I could almost see myself the way my friend would.
Then, suddenly, everyone had cellphones. We gave out our numbers like it was the time of day. But for me, it meant so much more. Talking to my best friend while my parents were going through their divorce felt like the only thing that was keeping me rooted. He didn't have to do anything but be there for me, and he was. Our calls made me see the light at the end of the tunnel. He could just listen while I talked and talked and finally felt better laying it all out. It was my medicine.
When I was in high school, texting was the most popular way to stay in touch. I remember my friends sounding weird on the phone, surprised every time I called instead of texted. They didn’t believe me when I told them, “It’s just easier to say it.” Texting leaves too much room for miscommunication, and I don’t just mean because of auto-correct. You can’t gauge someone’s tone, someone’s mood while you’re texting. It’s just words being read the way you think that person meant it. So, I called back then even if it was just to say, "Hey, I'm here."
Now I’m in college and I’m always on the phone. I need to check emails, cross off items in my to-do list, respond to texts, and, of course, check Facebook. But being far away from my family and old friends has given me a reason to keep calling. People are always shocked to hear that I call my mom every day, sometimes up to three times a day. I tell her about my day, about school, about still having no pets, and discuss my now slightly less annoying brother. We’ve grown closer than we were before because we’re forcing ourselves to communicate. It’s become our own little evening ritual, a way to wind down and process our days.
And it’s also been a lifesaver for preserving old friendships. I love hearing how my friends have been doing, transporting me back to my hometown or to the many, many memories we’ve shared. We don’t always have the time-- or maybe it’s because we don’t make the time—to catch each other up so when we do, it makes those moments so much more special, precious. If they're going through something rough like I was with my parents, it's a way for me to show them I'm here for them no matter what. Whether it’s a new boyfriend or girlfriend, that new professor that grades unfairly, or a funny story from work, I feel connected to them in a way texting or messaging can’t. And letters are too much of a hassle in the life of a college student, and it never feels like I’ve said everything I need to say, even when it becomes ten pages long.
There’s just something about talking on the phone that’s one-of-a-kind.
