I'm not usually overly-sentimental (except sometimes when it comes to my kids), but I have had the hardest time canceling my mom's phone service. I know this is ridiculous -- she's been gone for a year and a half -- but I justified it by saying that cell reception isn't always great on the mountain. For a while, that was true, but it hasn't been the case for at least three years. It was more that we had had the phone number since 1975, as if that somehow means something. My brother, whom no one would call sentimental, was uncharacteristically charitable in going along with this. (We were paying for it from the estate account, which is equally divided between the two of us.)
Today I made the call and turned off the phone. I don't know why I felt compelled to tell the representative that we had always been happy with the service, but I did. I thought it would be difficult to let it go, but it wasn't. Finally the time had come. I'm sure somewhere in my deeper levels of conciousness there are other reasons that the phone number was important to me, but I'm not able to articulate them now. Isn't it odd, the things we hold onto?
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