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TheDiscipleMD

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away newly adult children on their own, used to go to their parents with questions regarding, not only the meaning of life, but for advice on how to do…well…almost anything. Mostly the heads of the newly formed home called about most everything, because, well, if you don’t know how to get ketchup out of the new rug, Mom would know. What is the best tool for a certain project? Dad would know. The experience of parents was needed and wanted almost on a daily basis. Alas, not only have I been replaced as the mower of my grass by a robotic mower I named Spike, I have also been replaced in the hearts and minds of my kids as the ‘wise sage’ by something called the internet. Have you heard of the internet? Put in a question and WHAM…the answer comes back at you within seconds. The internet is a beautiful thing! I guess. I certainly have been helped around the house and in my life by having access to it’s knowledge.

Funny thing, though, is that those frantic and distressed calls that my wife and I used to get twenty years ago, have stopped. Because we have been replaced. And…that’s not particularly good, in my mind. Because the exchange of information between parents and their children requires something called “communication.” And communication is good, because it is key to building interpersonal relationships. And those relationships are vital in having good mental and physical health. Perhaps even spiritual health. More importantly, it creates bonds. And strong bonds in a family foster love. And love is what this world needs a lot more of.

Technology is wonderful in so many ways. But with it comes the potential for us to lose things that are so human. Like hearing the sound of a loved one’s voice, instead of a text or email. It’s the emotion that swells in your soul when you read a handwritten letter that has personality, even if it has misspelled words or sloppy handwriting. My Mom and Dad are both gone. What I most cherish are their handwritten letters. My Mother’s handwriting was so beautiful; so feminine. When I read one of her handwritten letters I am transported back in time by the envelope, the stamp, and the stationary she chose. I can recognize at the glance her writing, and that of my Dads.

To live is to be human. So the next time you find yourself in a bit of a jam, and you are tempted to go online to find a quick answer, think again ! Perhaps you should dial a loved one and ask them if they know. And if they don’t, you will still have won. Because the person on the other end will know your name. And I can guarantee you that the person you touched by voice; will love the sound of it. And you will miss the sound of theirs, when they are gone. And because “Hey Siri” is nobody, and you are nobody to her!