An entire day without opening my laptop or looking at my phone. Well, technically that’s not true. I posted this morning and checked emails but once I left the house, I was electronically disconnected. That is not to say, it wasn’t a day filled with communication.
I arrived to find my hospice client standing by his bed, fumbling with books on the table. He turned at the sound of my voice and grinned; bright, chipper and full of happiness to see me, he greeted me and we made our way out to the sun-room. I had brought him a huge ripe peach. The first of the season, he commented as he enjoyed every bite with relish, the juice sliding down his chin. We speak surprisingly little, but I know his every need; when a walk is in order, or when just sitting quietly is comforting.
The store was bustling when arrived after lunch. Between customers, Korey, Kim and I shot ideas and thoughts to each other. “Did you see the numbers for last week’s sales?” “Hey, I had a thought – how about we print up a really nice calendar?” “What do we need to order this week?” It would be a luxury to sit and work our way through a list of topics and have a “meeting” about current and future plans. The pace is just too fast, there is no schedule for such blocks of time. Yet we communicate in clipped segments and get the job done, no committees, no memos, just talk.
I had a customer today, she brought her mother with her who was an octogenarian. Mom didn’t care to taste anything and when we headed to the register to check out, Mom was singing along with Bing Crosby, crooning a love song from her youth. I asked her to keep singing as I tallied up their purchase, her voice was clear and soft. She smiled at me as she sang.
My bees, dogs, cats and horses speak the language of life so succinctly. Communication doesn’t need an electronic device to be satisfying. I wish I could do with fewer keyboards.