Face Time

These days when my phone rings and I see "Matt and Becca Canada Home" appear on the screen, I can be relatively certain that the voice I am about to hear will not be Matt's or Becca's but rather that of my sweet granddaughter Coraline. I can also be relatively certain that at some point in our conversation, Coraline will utter the words, "Ghee, you want a Skype now?" And every living creature on the planet can be relatively certain that I'm going to try everything in my power to accommodate that precious little girl's request when she calls me. Before Matt moved his family to Canada, I barely knew what Skype was ... and now ... well, now I can't imagine how I would survive without it. I'm not sure I could go on if I couldn't at least see Coraline and Amelie on my laptop screen, and my heart breaks for grandparents of geographically faraway grandkids who don't have that luxury.

For as thankful as I am for the technology that allows me to "see" my granddaughters every week, there is no denying that it's not the same as seeing them face to face. Being with them recently for a couple of weeks reinforced what I already knew ... no matter how wonderful the technology is, it simply isn't the same as human contact and personal face-to-face interaction. Last night, I Skyped with Amelie and Coraline for a little over an hour, and of course that hour included reading several bedtime stories to Coraline. As I read 101 Dalmatians and Lion King to her, all I could think about was that just a couple of weeks ago we were sitting together on her couch reading those same books ... all I could think about was her little head nestled against my shoulder as we read ... all I could think about was the tender touch of her tiny hand as she tucked it inside of mine ... all I could think about was the vivid blue of her eyes when she patted my cheek and said, "Ghee, I wuv you." Yes, Skype is wonderful, but tickling Amelie's tummy and kissing her baby toes and hearing her laughter and holding her in my arms ... yes, Skype is wonderful, but playing hide and seek with Coraline and coloring princess pictures with her and hearing her giggle and seeing her run across the room and jump into my arms ... no matter how amazing the technology is, there is absolutely, positively, beyond the shadow of any doubt no substitute for face time with the ones you love.

A few months ago, I heard an incredible speaker give a talk about the way technology has caused us to be farther apart from one another ... that instead of talking to one another, we talk at one another. We instant message ... we text ... we email ... we Facebook ... but we don't talk. We've sacrificed face time because ... well ... we've sacrificed face time because messaging and texting and emailing and Facebooking takes less time. Think about that ... really, really, really think about that ... we've given up face time with one another to save time, to add more minutes into our day, and we're losing each other in the process. On the rare occasion that we do actually talk to each other face to face, we spend as much if not more time checking our phones to see if we have messages than we do looking each other in the eye or listening to one another's hearts. Lest you think I consider myself to be innocent of allowing technology to replace human contact, I can assure you I'm as guilty as anyone. I hide behind my keyboard every single day, and I panic if by chance I happen not to have my phone with me.

As I mentioned in a previous post, several of my flights were delayed on my last trip to Canada, both on my way there and on my way home. It wasn't until the final leg of my journey home when I realized that with each delay, the people who were waiting didn't talk to each other. For the most part, they were on their phones or laptops or tablets, looking up only when there was an announcement concerning the status of the flight. I didn't see one person reading a book ... at least not an "old-fashioned" book anyway ... and the only people who talked to one another were the ones who were traveling together. I remember a time when people chatted as they waited ... in doctors' and dentists' offices, car repair businesses, checkout lines at stores, even airports. It's ironic, isn't it? In our never-ending quest to be more connected electronically and our constant attempt to save time and streamline efficiency, we're sacrificing the most important thing of all ... each other. As much as I love to write, reading words in an email or via instant messenger or text or Facebook isn't the same as talking face to face. It's impossible to see the pain in someone's eyes ... the joy in someone's eyes ... the fear in someone's eyes ... the compassion in someone's eyes ... it's impossible to see the love in someone's eyes if you don't see their eyes.

No matter how wonderful the technology is, it can't wrap its arms around me and hug me ... it can't sit across the table from me and look into my eyes ... it can't hold my hand when I'm afraid ... no matter how wonderful it is, it can't take the place of you.

"Lo, men have become the tools of their tools." --- Henry David Thoreau