Memoir - Week 13
We spoke by phone
just as soon as possible, less than twenty four hours after the jet’s dangling
rubber tyres slapped the tarmac at Dulles airport. Once again, it was a huge
relief to hear Erin’s voice. We reaffirmed that although living in different
countries, we would be committed to each other. That somehow, sometime we would
be together.
It was so good to
be on the same page.
The telephone
quickly became our life-blood. Inevitably email also came into play as a quick
way to reach out, to send a reminder to the other that we were thinking of or
missing them – and an easy way to keep the flow of communication from falling
prey to inconsistency. Within the next four weeks we had each written a letter
to the other. One remained the grand total, though – a sign of the technological
times. But my letter, as did Erin’s, was brimming with emotion, hope and
remembrances of our brief yet seemingly eternal time together in Canberra.
We got into a
lovely habit of telephoning each other at all hours. My chunky telephone – I
now realise to be out-dated – would ring in the smallest of hours and before I
seemed even fully conscious, I’d stick an excited arm out of bed and answer it.
I couldn’t wait to get to work to see an email from Erin. Then, I couldn’t wait
to be home to receive another phone call from her. When I wasn’t receiving
calls or emails from Erin, I was calling or emailing her myself. It all
happened around the clock, and time to us was irrelevant.
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