Memoir

At work, I talk on the phone all day.   Some days I love it, talking to people from all over the country, learning about their lives a thousand miles away from mine.  Is it snowing where you are?  Other days when the calls come in,  I have to force myself to put on a friendly tone, to force myself to care about some stranger’s cell phone.

I’m a therapist, really, helping faceless customers.

I had an elderly man talk to me for an hour yesterday about his life in the war and after the war, his grandchildren, retirement.  During calls like these, I am thankful for the opportunity to connect with these strangers.

I bet that man would sit wonderfully in a photograph, tattooed with wrinkles which illustrate his life.