When my phone rang
early on Saturday morning, and I saw it was my brother, I hesitated before
answering. The first thought hitting my brain went straight to, “What’s wrong
now?” That dread roots itself in a rough year of catastrophe.
I tried to coach my
voice into a neutral, “Hi” because I try to protect Charles from the anxiety
his calls often trigger.
“What’s up?” he
asked.
“Me!” I quipped back
as soon as I registered his tone of voice.
“I’m treating myself
to breakfast—an omelet. Then I’m going shopping.” His voice sounded upbeat for
a change. We chatted back and forth for about half an hour about the new
kitchen plates he picked up last week and his planned visit to my sister’s
house next weekend. We talked about the ice that froze San Antonio a few days
before and his relief that the frozen snap didn’t impact his newly insulated
plumbing down in League City.
Everything we talked
about was light, bright and breezy. Getting a happy call is so rare that I found
myself writing about it today. But . . . maybe this will be what 2022 brings to
our family.
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| Stressed at Christmas 2021 |
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| Happy Charles 2014 |
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