<p>Yes, yes, yes, samuck. I know I am inclined often to overthink. Two days ago H asked me if I thought D’s eyes looked “puffy” in her new FB profile pic. Poor guy - we’ve gotten awfully used to worrying about her mood the past few weeks and are looking for ANY information. The punchline? When I told her I liked the new pic (which I do, and I don’t think the eyes look puffy), she told me she took it WEEKS ago, long before she went to school. </p>
<p>I find myself greedy for anything she says that sounds like she is having fun, making friends, etc. I will admit to clinging to 3rd-person hearsay if I can find good news in it. But then of course there are the tidbits that make me worry - like amanda’s son hearing about a mythical crime in his hometown, and H worrying about the look in her eyes. </p>
<p>I do try to pull back as much as I can. D is having her long-awaited fun trip into the city today, and I’ll admit I’m very curious and hoping really hard it’s gone well. Yes, I wouldn’t mind a text that something really cool happened. I’ve asked myself - if there had been texting 30 years ago when I was 1000 miles from home, would I have popped my mom a message, sent my brother a non-sequitur, given my grandmother a spontaneous “I love you” a bit more often?</p>
<p>Yes, I would have.</p>
<p>In our dorm, we had a metal slot in our mailboxes that was just right to stick a small piece of paper in. We also had wipe-off boards on all of our dorm doors (I think they still do that now sometimes). We constantly left each other little notes, little jokes, ideas, questions, invitations. Texts, 1980-style, so to speak. </p>
<p>I was too cheap to send postcards, and I didn’t write home enough, either. Calling was beyond extravagant, unless absolutely necessary. But if these things had been free, and as easy as a text is now? That might have been kind of nice.</p>