“Sunrise is at 7:07,” he reminds me. So I accede. We’re vacationing at a spot where the sun rises with insistence in bold sherbet colors above the ocean. We have vowed to ooh and ahh at the sun’s wake-up majesty every morning we’re there.
That said, it’s been a long travel day, and I suggest we give ourselves one ‘sleep-in’ morning – maybe even to 6:45 – and use the alarm for each day after. As far as I know, my guy agrees. Plus, he’s not a phonaholic, which translates to he hardly ever answers his phone and proudly gets mixed up between texts and e-mails and the volume button. I have nothing to worry about.
But I do worry – profoundly – when I’m woken from a deep sleep in the middle of the night by a Beatles’ song. “It’s Been a Hard Day’s Night.”
My mom’s song.
For years that’s been the tune set on my phone for whenever my mom calls. I’m sure many of you know that you can set up different ringtones (and songs) for different phone numbers on your I-Phone. When I get phone calls from most people, my phone rings the Beatles song “From Me to You.” Appropriate, But I chose the phone ring of “A Hard Day’s Night” for my mom back when she was calling me once a day. How I wish she could still do that. But she’s been gone for over a year and a half.
So why was she calling me now? Or perhaps a better question would be, HOW was she calling me now? I popped up from bed and searched frantically for my phone. I found it, on my night table.
“Someone’s calling us,” I explain in a tenuous voice. “On your phone, which is out in the living room.”
“Who?” he asks, then adds, “Don’t answer it.”
How can I ignore a phone call at (I glance blurry-eyed at the clock) 5:30 Hawaii time, 10:30 a.m. East Coast time? Maybe an emergency with the family. But no one calls my guy during an emergency. They call me. Plus, he has never, ever downloaded a song onto his phone.
I sink into the pillow and think of my mom. The phone stops ringing.
Five minutes later, “A Hard Day’s Night” blares loudly in the still-dark villa. I jump. My guy groans. “Ignore it,” he says.
Ha. I have never been able to ignore my mom. By the time I reach his phone in the other room, the music has stopped.