cronechronicler

The other day at a family event I asked my fifteen year old grandson Bobby if he wanted to get together for lunch the following week. He said, “Sure. Tuesday’s good. I’ll give you a call.” Tuesday came but no phone call, though I waited at home for one most of the day. I left the ball in his hands thinking that was an appropriate response to respect his growing independence. (Or maybe my not calling him was leftover from all the stilted phone calls I attempted with my grandchildren when I lived in a different city.)

More of the story came to light later in the week when I was talking to my son on the phone about something else. He told me that on Tuesday Bobby had tried to call me on my cell phone a couple of times and even left me a message, but I never responded. He and his brother James were worried that “something had happened to Grandma” when Bobby couldn’t reach me. My son assured them that I was fine. “Grandma keeps her cell phone off and only uses it when she is away from home in case of an emergency.” My son suggested that I call Bobby on his family’s land line about our lunch date. He planned to give Bobby a message to call me on my land line when he got home later in the afternoon.

I was relieved to learn how Bobby’s and my individual choice of communication was the culprit in our failure to connect. We were speaking different languages. More importantly I learned something endearing about my grandson. He did not forget our conversation about lunch. And when he didn’t reach me he was concerned that something had happened to me. It is great to know that he is so dependable and responsible But that is not the end of the story. My lesson was just beginning.

I waited until evening for Bobby to call me. When he hadn’t I decided I would text him since I know that is his preferred mode of communication. The problem was I had only sent two or three texts in my life. I messed around with my cell phone – no frills and on a basic Senior $29.99-a-month plan, texting extra. Finally I managed a mistake-riddled message asking him to call me on my land line and successfully sent it. He texted back, “No problem.” I was elated!

The next day when he still hadn’t called I texted him again, briefly asking which day next week was good for him (I was learning that texting requires few words.) He texted back his choice of days. I replied with a few words giving instructions where to meet me, what time, and where he could safely leave his bicycle. He responded “Alright.” Bingo! Communication completed.