• The Divine Telephone Line

  • I wish you could have met my friend Sharon. She and her husband had been friends with my husband before we married, so Sharon and I kinda inherited each other.
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  • I wish you could have met my friend Sharon. She and her husband had been friends with my husband before we married, so Sharon and I kinda inherited each other.
    For me, Sharon equals joy and laughter. So much of the time we shared was spent laughing. It was not little, occasional tee-hees but belly-shaking, breath-gulping, panty-peeing laughter.
    She started experiencing rheumatoid arthritis, which made it difficult for her to get around. When she had a good day, which became less and less often, we were able to enjoy an afternoon on the town, but for the most part, our friendship took place via the telephone.
    We talked on the phone for an hour, three or four days a week. The hours we spent on the phone were deliciously outrageous. Others puzzled about the various topics that could keep these conversations going so long and with such frequency, but it was never a mystery to us.
    We did a little writing about Self and Me, a couple of alter egos. Their antics were motivated by their unique and irreverent views of everyday life. Seeing through their tilted lens brought us endless moments of unparalleled delight.
    When Sharon and her husband moved to the Funny Farm, a few acres with more than 100 peacocks roaming free, their telephone service was temporarily interrupted. Sharon and I were horrified at losing our laugh line for two whole days, which was the intended schedule for her telephone service to be reinstated.
    Overcome with telephone withdrawals but not wanting to appear too eager, I waited until the third day before calling her. The phone rang and a man, whose voice I did not recognize, answered. When I asked for Sharon, he hesitated, stumbled for words and then asked me to hold. Sharon's husband came on the line, laughing. He was standing outside near the improvised telephone pole, and the telephone installer was up the pole holding two wires together so her husband could take my call.
    Having no compassion for our telephone addiction, he — still laughing — said, "I'll have her call you back."
    Sharon and I felt the two men should have held their positions while we had our usual laugh fest.
    On one particular June morning, I awoke early and was moved to do my meditation promptly. In that meditation, Sharon and I joined hands, spread our arms wide and soared through the universe. In the blink of an eye, I could no longer see Sharon, but one end of a golden cord was in my hand. The other end, I knew, was attached to her. Soon, it was time to release the cord.
    Later that morning I received a call from her husband saying Sharon's last two wishes had been granted, and at the time of my meditation she had made her final journey home.
    Whether we find ourselves walking this Earth or in another dimension, whether we are visible or one of the unseen, we are all connected one to the other by the golden cord. I, however, suspect the cord is actually The Divine Telephone Line.
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