butt dialing

I refer to the accidental dialing of a friend or family as “butt dialing” when, in fact, my phone rarely gets put into my back pocket. Somehow, when you say, “Oops, that was a butt dial,” people completely understand.

My tendency for this action has been increasing lately. Perhaps it is my subconscious reaching out to those listed in my “favorites” who have not received the communication exchange that favorites should receive. Last week, Jeff was the lucky recipient of my wayward dialing. It was such a pleasant surprise to hear his voice when he called me back. Of course, the conversation was entertaining; it always is with Jeff.

Today, it was my favorite sister-in-law who received the butt dial. She listened to two full minutes of XM radio, me and at the stop light. Thank goodness one of my favorite sing-a-long songs wasn’t playing. I was just returning to my car when she returned the call. I spent the next 40 minutes in Trader Joe’s parking lot catching up on the goings-on in Family South and Family North.

With a generous helping of August birthdays, oddly matched with a few sad anniversaries, the conversation moved to births and deaths. Of course we talked about time & healing — and how the passing of those we loved sometimes feels like it happened just yesterday and other times feels like forever ago. Naturally, the discussion moved from the boys’ healing to mine. And of course, because I have the best in-laws ever, my sister-in-law was happy to hear how I’ve been spending time with a wonderful man. She was even happier to hear how very much in-love I am.

We ended the call shortly there after and I asked her to extend the invitation to all of Family South to butt dial me any time. A few minutes later, she (or her butt rather) called back with a similar call to the one that signaled her to call me. I took it as her subconscious way of saying “I love you too.”