One of the hardest things about dropping my son off at the airport in Omaha this morning is that he didn’t take his smartphone with him (he won’t be able to use it in his destination city: Lima). So of course right after we exchanged our last wave, just before he went through the x-ray machine, – me crying, him looking a little concerned – I thought of something I wanted to tell him. And I couldn’t. Soon enough he’ll be somewhere that he can email us from but not having the ability to text is tough. It’s not like we text that much – I try not to. But not having the option stinks. It makes me wonder how my parents coped when I flitted off to Europe and the Middle East for months on end, just roaming without much of an itinerary, and there was no email or texting option. Back in 1982, our only option – beside very expensive phone calls and not-very-timely postcards – was telegram and I do remember once sending a telegram to my dad for his birthday from Istanbul (when I almost forgot it was his birthday). I made the mistake of wishing him Happy Birthday in Turkish – which he of course didn’t understand so I may have unnecessarily alarmed him and my mom. This was only a few years after the movie “Midnight Express” came out…
Anyway, I hope to get an email from my son sometime tomorrow just telling me he’s arrived in Lima safely. Then I’ll be fine. I think.
TakeBetsywithyou 