Long Distance Please

Aaron was gone for 13 months to MBA and we could only talk when he was permitted to call-usually once a week for ten minutes on a Thursday night and a couple of times a month for an hour conference. For several months prior to going away, our relationship was not one of pleasant conversations. An exchange was rarely more than guarded-both ways.

In the few months Aaron was home before he died--God that hurts to write, our conversations were mostly fun and caring. Anything else was just as typical for Dad's and sons. Aaron would check in on me during the day, and I'd check in on him in the evenings. Example: Me- "AJ, how's it goin'?" Him- "Great Dad. Just watching a movie (playing a video, etc...)we ordered a pizza and then I'll be home. Nothin' to worry about." Me- "Good. I always worry about you until you walk in the door. Be home by midnight OK?" Him- "Sure thing. Glad you worry about me, Dad. I'll be home on time."

I still reach for my cell phone when I have something I want to share with Aaron. Probably happens several times a week. I just hate the thought of the world changing and not being able to hear Aaron's point of view. I want to tell him about so many things. Every time I think of something that I want to share, if the phone is near, my hand moves toward it. But there is no number to heaven. Aaron's number is still programmed into my phone AJ 772-1529. It doesn't get answered.

My phone is the same old one I had on May 10, 2005 when the deputy coroner called me. I hate that phone. Someday I will smash it. Maybe on the exit to Seminole Highway where the world ended.

Tom