Those of you who’ve read my novel, “Control Switch,” know that I’m a dialogue junky. I love it in novels; I love it in life.
Communication is the rich thread that weaves our lives together and gives power to our heart’s desires. It can both repair and destroy, and I would loathe living in a world where it didn’t exist. That’s why my heart aches for a woman who lived without it tonight.
I just finished sitting beside a young woman and her grandmother in a restaurant. Initially, I smiled when they sat down, thinking how refreshing it was to see them spending “quality time” together. But my smile soon disappeared. Why? The granddaughter proceeded to pull out her phone and stay on it through the entire meal. The only words she spoke to the beautiful soul across from her were, “Do you want cheese on that?” and “What do you want to drink?” She might as well have been the woman’s waitress.
From where I sat I could see the grandmother’s eyes, and she appeared ill at ease and heartbroken. I could also see the girl’s phone, and the thing that kept her from engaging and was so important? Facebook.
I know, I know – we see this all the time – but I’ll never come to terms with it. I love my technology as much as the next girl, and I spend my fair share of time using it, but it takes a backseat when I have someone I care about sitting across, beside or anywhere near me. Hell, I don’t even scroll through my newsfeed when I’m sitting across from someone I don’t care about!
I implore those of you who give a shit to put your phones down and talk to the people that hold a place in your heart. They may not all have an online profile, but they do have a profile, nonetheless. A real one full of rich memories, dreams and stories worth hearing.
Let’s talk in hopes of never becoming that grandmother. Let’s talk to foster understand. Let’s talk to encourage love.