Good Morning Daddy
Every morning, in the wee hours, we start.
Three AM has become my time with Dad and I normally have him all to myself. It has become a special time together and each message is treasured more than the last.
“Good Morning Dad!”
“Good Morning back to you.”
Then the early morning chatter begins. While most sane people are tucked into bed, my dad and I spend some quiet time typing words back and forth as early as 3 AM. Neither one of us sleep through the night, never have. Some mornings I sleep in and I will often have a response back.
“Good Late Morning to you, did you over sleep?”
Some mornings, especially when I know he has not felt well, I let him try and sleep before I peek into his phone.
Often we chat like this (text) for awhile; sometimes it is only a quick hello, love you and take care of yourself. But the ritual has begun and we both look eagerly forward to it.
I am not sure when it started, especially since I never was one to text much, that is until the last two years when children went off to college and another out west. I used to write about the long lost art of letter writing, phone calls and face to face. I have not surrendered mind you, I still like the old fashioned way of communication. However, I willingly succumb to the need to just hear from my loved ones and I will take whatever form I can get.
I would much rather visit my parents, but living 4 hours away and working many hours sometimes prevents my return home. When I do arrive, the whole family seems to swoop in to see us. I love them each and every one, but I truly treasure my parents and grandmother time. I often wish I could bring them up to our place so we could have that quiet time and we could take care of them.
It is not possible to do this. So I settle. I have learned to take what every tidbits of time I can have with them and this new “Texting” ritual has been a joy of discovery. A few times, my mom has been up at same time and we pass messages back and forth to each other.
Recently, I told my dad to let mom know she was my “treasure”. He returned with an answer that she called me her “Pearl”. What joy in that word, what love I felt when I read the words. I can not begin to describe it. I only wish it were all in letter form so that I could save it forever.
My parents are too far from me and with recent illnesses back home, I long to be there with them and for them. I will text often during a day when I truly am concerned. We share little bits of news, weather and love back and forth in short, choppy sentences. We laugh over the auto-correct which often distorts our words, but never our true feelings for each other.
God has blessed me with modern technology. I know, I am eating my words. I blogged about the lost art of letter writing a while back and here I am praising the technology that drove me nuts. What I have learned is whatever form of communication you can get from those you love is worth it. I still write letters, send cards and try my best to keep in touch. However, my morning time with my dad is the thrill of my day and I hope his.
Teresa Gale
Every morning, in the wee hours, we start.
Three AM has become my time with Dad and I normally have him all to myself. It has become a special time together and each message is treasured more than the last.
“Good Morning Dad!”
“Good Morning back to you.”
Then the early morning chatter begins. While most sane people are tucked into bed, my dad and I spend some quiet time typing words back and forth as early as 3 AM. Neither one of us sleep through the night, never have. Some mornings I sleep in and I will often have a response back.
“Good Late Morning to you, did you over sleep?”
Some mornings, especially when I know he has not felt well, I let him try and sleep before I peek into his phone.
Often we chat like this (text) for awhile; sometimes it is only a quick hello, love you and take care of yourself. But the ritual has begun and we both look eagerly forward to it.
I am not sure when it started, especially since I never was one to text much, that is until the last two years when children went off to college and another out west. I used to write about the long lost art of letter writing, phone calls and face to face. I have not surrendered mind you, I still like the old fashioned way of communication. However, I willingly succumb to the need to just hear from my loved ones and I will take whatever form I can get.
I would much rather visit my parents, but living 4 hours away and working many hours sometimes prevents my return home. When I do arrive, the whole family seems to swoop in to see us. I love them each and every one, but I truly treasure my parents and grandmother time. I often wish I could bring them up to our place so we could have that quiet time and we could take care of them.
It is not possible to do this. So I settle. I have learned to take what every tidbits of time I can have with them and this new “Texting” ritual has been a joy of discovery. A few times, my mom has been up at same time and we pass messages back and forth to each other.
Recently, I told my dad to let mom know she was my “treasure”. He returned with an answer that she called me her “Pearl”. What joy in that word, what love I felt when I read the words. I can not begin to describe it. I only wish it were all in letter form so that I could save it forever.
My parents are too far from me and with recent illnesses back home, I long to be there with them and for them. I will text often during a day when I truly am concerned. We share little bits of news, weather and love back and forth in short, choppy sentences. We laugh over the auto-correct which often distorts our words, but never our true feelings for each other.
God has blessed me with modern technology. I know, I am eating my words. I blogged about the lost art of letter writing a while back and here I am praising the technology that drove me nuts. What I have learned is whatever form of communication you can get from those you love is worth it. I still write letters, send cards and try my best to keep in touch. However, my morning time with my dad is the thrill of my day and I hope his.
Teresa Gale
