Texting is a form of communication that ranks pretty high on my list of preferred forms of communication. It is firmly sandwiched in-between face-to-face (#1) and email (#3) and, frankly, waaay above the dreaded telephone (#last#last#last). I prefer texting, mostly because it is a silent and efficient way of transmitting information and often acts as a reminder of things I need to do or follow-up on, since it’s always with me. Out of all of the ways to convey info, texting is pretty painless.
However, every now and then a text will pop up on my cell phone that makes me shake my head or roll my eyes in exasperation and it amazes me how just a sentence or two can make me uncomfortable.
A few weeks ago, I got a text that got me so worked up — it made me sputter, curse a light blue streak (I’m usually all about the minced oath*, so this was slightly out of character) and stomp until the cat left the room. It’s a clear sign you’ve gone and crossed a line when you’ve frightened a black cat into exiting stage left in a mad, mad panic.
The text that pierced a hole in my usually calm demeanor… came from my ex. It was the tEXt that has since ruined more than a few days. And lives.
This text from the ex read: “I think I’m moving to Peru.”
It took me a few minutes before I could think straight and calm my shaking thumbs — with no less than seven SpellCheck errors — and hit SEND: Peru? What? Moving? Excuse me? Did I miss a memo?
tEXt: Yeah. I’ve decided I’m going to move to Peru.
<Insert my complete conniption and spoken dialogue that only the cat heard here>
As much as I’m not a fan of the phone, I decided this was a conversation important enough to not let my fingers do the talking, so I dialed… well, I guess we don’t really dial anymore with keypads and all. So, I guess it’s more accurate (and satisfying) to say I punched… the ex.
Me: Okay. Please walk me through what I just read.
Ex: Yeah. I’ve decided I’m moving to Peru.
Me: Peru?! You’ve never even been. WHERE in Peru?
Ex: Cusco, Peru.
Me: Oh, please. I know how much you like your weekly sojourns to Costco. Are you just confused?
Ex: No. I’ve looked it up on-line. I think I’m going to move there.
Me: Costco?
Ex: Cusco.
Me: Why Peru?
Ex: It seems nice and it’s cheap.
Me: Yeah, well so is Costco.
Ex: I already contacted a realtor. I’m going to put my house up for sale. Tonight.
At this point, with itchy trigger fingers and no gun at hand – I grabbed my cellphone and started texting a friend with the incoming fast and furious auditory information from my ex, including the part about how during a recent lunch with our son he said he explained that he was sort of moving to Paradise Falls, the place that Ellie wanted to go to in the movie “Up.” [Uh, FYI? Paradise Falls doesn’t exist according to www.science4grownups.com but then again, neither do those talking dogs from the minds of Pixar Animation Studios. But, I digress.]
The conversation came to an end. Not because there wasn’t a whole lot more to say, it just couldn’t be done in one sitting (or, in my case, stomping).
You’ll forgive me, if I thought that the slow emotional erosion that had started decades ago was nearly complete. I had no idea there was earth still left to move.
You see, my marriage didn’t end in an instant. It was more like a million moments strung together, and with this one text – despite the fact that we’ve both moved on with our lives — there were a million more I didn’t know still existed. I thought I had shed all the tears for what had been lost. But, I was wrong.
It was a long time ago that our family unit unraveled as my ex slowly retreated from our world into a solitary world of his own doing. Now… he has sold his house, given notice at his job and is moving a world away. My children are losing their father. Again.
With any luck, maybe the man will find his paradise (minus the fall). If so, I can only hope he’ll communicate with his kids now and then. Me, he’ll probably tEXt.
xo – t.
“Know thyself? If I knew myself I’d run away.” – Johann Wolfang von Goethe
“Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only one feat is possible; not to run away.” – Dag Hammarskjold
“You can’t run away from trouble. There ain’t no place that far.” – James Baskett
*Minced Oath: a euphemistic expression formed by misspelling, mispronouncing, or replacing a part of a profane, blasphemous, or taboo term to reduce the original term’s objectionable characteristics. Examples: Son of a Biscuit Eater; Dagnabbit; What the French Toast?…