A Slow Convergence

For the past few days, I've been talking to my mother on my cell phone. Now, this may seem like a commonplace (even annoying) experience to others, but for me, this marks a significant change. Because, for the past three years, I have been separated from my parents by a little pond, popularly known as the Atlantic Ocean. Skype and email has been the go-to method of communication, sparing my parents exorbitant phone bills. As amazing as they are, though, they aren't perfect.

Over the past three years, I have had my car break down, gotten pertussis, crashed my computer, figured out three years of financial aid, been stuck in four airports and a train station, and broken my nose. I have also gotten four jobs, traveled in seven countries without them (with two more coming this summer), maintained a high GPA, and, most importantly, made many friends. In the highs and lows of these times, near-instantaneous communication is a luxury I've been without.

But today, my father finally arrives in the States. It's been almost a year in the making, beginning with my brother's return to study in Georgia and ending tonight. My family, the stable core that has been my only continuity for over twenty years, is going to be not only on the same continent but also in the same time zone. Today, I can pick up my cell phone and call them past 4 PM.

So I am excited about it. At least for now.