Phone cord a vital link

“They may cut the umbilical cord, but they will never cut the phone cord,” is the saying on a magnet on my refrigerator. This truism by Cathy Guisewite illustrates how essential telephones have become.

Just like the umbilical cord is a lifeline between the unborn child and its mother, the telephone is a lifeline between people and the rest of the world. My daughter is incapable of driving without a phone in her ear. Yes, I know the inherent dangers of this practice. I also know she uses her phone friends as her own personal GPS system as well as using the time to catch up on gossip and to arrange transportation for her stepson.

When I was a child telephones came in any color the customer wanted as long as it was black. Now they are adorned with myriad hues and designs. Sizes range from small to teensy weensy.

They have more features than a NASA guidance system and woe unto anyone who wants a phone that does only what it was originally designed for. If you dare ask for a single-function phone, the salesperson assumes you have just been released from a mental hospital and need to go back quickly because the treatment hasn’t worked.

The telephone is the first thing I reach for when I want to share news of any kind. It doesn’t matter if the information is happy or not. Most of the people I care about live in far away places. If I want to talk to them the only options I have are to spend hours or days in the car or else pick up the handy instrument on the wall and call them.

In addition to sharing details of daily life, the telephone can be a greater source of information than the public library. It’s even better than the internet because there are no annoying pop-up ads or smut. Is there a mother alive who hasn’t given cooking lessons over the phone? When I was first married, I called my mom to ask her how to make gravy. It didn’t matter that it had been my job to make the gravy for the past five years or so, I needed her to reassure me that I wasn’t leaving out any steps.

My daughter recently called me to ask what a bundt pan was. She had found her grandmother’s recipe for Harvey Wallbanger cake. It is an extremely rich and delicious cake that can only be served in small slivers. My daughter said the only pans she had were regular round pans or the pan she uses for cheesecakes. We determined those wouldn’t work. She then relayed my explanation of what a bundt pan was to her husband and he went out and bought one for her.

It always surprises me when she calls for cooking information because she is a much better chef than I will ever be. I guess there is some information I forgot to tell her as she was growing up.

We use her as our own personal medical dictionary. We figure that since we helped put her through nursing school she should return the favor by answering any and all medical questions. Don’t understand what the doctor just said? Call Beth. Want to know what a particular medicine is for? Call Beth. Need a funny emergency room story? Beth is your girl.

We had a friend who used to call in the middle of the night. He was dying and that was when all the monsters came out. I invariably answered the phone by telling him what time it was. It didn’t matter what I said, he just needed to know that there was someone out there who cared.

I think that is why the phone cord will never be cut. We need to know that we matter to somebody other than ourselves. We need to share our funny stories, our worries and get free cooking lessons from our moms. We need to know someone cares.[[In-content Ad]]