My childhood friend died a decade ago but his name & number are still in my phone. My poetry editor died last year. His name & number will always remain in my phone. "Home" means my little sister is calling instead of my mother & father who are gone and gone. This phone that I carry becomes heavy when I see that my contact list is gradually becoming half-cemetery.
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My falling apart address book has many faded folks and memories torn from its weary pages. Many too with who I have parted ways, left behind from Florida to Washington to New Mexico, and even now some are crossed off, scribbled over. Most names lie awake at night inside that old book. And yes, many others rest asleep in my pocket under CONTACTS on my electrical device.
It is scary for me to be so much older than your are...and still have the collections, recollections perhaps I have even more than you.
I have an old Rolodex-style card address “book” from a close friend who died in 1996 … I sort of keep it “ready” as it’s both haunting and comforting to have, though I’ve not looked at it for years.Perhaps, like I visit this friend’s grave from time to time when back in Green Bay where I was born. I found the last line awkwardly accurate … I do “weed out” my e-address book. Maybe time to change. Thanks, Sherman.