I have two grandsons who each call me two, three times a week.  I think back when I was their age and recall that I never called anybody.  It makes me wish I had done better.  A phone call means a lot now.

I was married three weeks, had left Oklahoma for Pensacola, Florida and got a phone call from my mom--long distance phone calls never happened in our world.  "Why haven't you written!!  We didn't know if you got there, were alive, or drowned in the Gulf.

Back then (1956) no one could afford a long distance call.  I-phones were something not even imagined yet.  Every communication was by mail.  If you asked someone a question, it took three days for them to get it and three more to get an answer.  Today's population have no idea how to wait for an answer.  No idea how communication was so difficult back then.

It hadn't occurred to me to write my mom.  I knew I was okay.  And at the age of 18, I had no idea what it was like to be a mom and worry about someone.  I had no worries.  "I'm fine I told her."

"You have to write us.  You have been ours for eighteen years!! You can't just walk off the face of the earth like this."  I just didn't think about somebody worrying about me or that I needed to communicate.  I got better at communicating.  But never as good as my two grandsons.