I Miss the Phone Calls we Used to Have.
Don never calls me anymore.
Even though, it used to be the same conversation every time, I miss it.
I’d start by saying, “Hey, Don! How ya doin’?”
“I’m good, Chip, how ‘bout you?” He’d smile.
“I’m good.” I’d say. Then, I’d ask, “Wha’ cha doin’?”
“Just sitting here in the truck.” He would always answer.
Then, I would inquire, “Did you have a cup of coffee this morning?” I know that two of his little joys in life are drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette.
“Yea,” Don would say. “I went out and had a cup of coffee; got a pack of smokes. Now, I’m just sitting here in the truck, looking at the trees and listening to the birds; enjoying the day.”
Then, I would ask, “Did you have anything to eat?”
“Not yet,” Don would say. “My nephew might bring me a plate of food later when he gets off from work.”
Most of the time, that was the entire conversation.
Sometimes, it would continue like this, with Don saying to me,
“You know, I was just thinking about you before you called!”
“Oh, yea?” I would say. “what were you thinking ‘bout?”
Then, Don would tell me what was on his mind, and when he did, our conversations easily flowed for an hour and a half or more!
Don is a wise man. I miss our phone conversations, even though the were usually simply, brief small-talk.
