I never thought of myself as someone who spends a lot of time talking on the phone. The truth is I am a BIG phone talker. And I am not referring to the calls I make and take for work – that is another matter. I spend a lot of intimate time on the phone with people who are dear to me. One would assume that intimate time necessitates being face to face, and I used to assume that myself, but not anymore.

Whether it is with my sister in Cleveland, my best girlfriend in Boston or a local friend sharing a late night conversation, I have come to view these phone conversations are deeply personal and critical to my mental health. As someone who previously contended that face to face conversations reign supreme, I am now no longer convinced. Of course, I would love to have the luxury of sharing my thoughts over a cup of coffee with my sister or my girlfriend. That goes without saying. But given that distance eliminates that option, our conversations on the telephone have become my lifeline on many days. I need to check in with my sister daily to share the mundane dealings of our lives, as well as to vent about the days that are more trying. My daily check-in with my girlfriend in Boston validates my life as a woman, a mother and a professional, whether we laugh or cry to each other. I look forward to my brother’s calls as he is driving home from work. And I cherish my late night phone conversations with my local friend, with the quiet and calm that accompanies the end of a long day.

The telephone has not only allowed me to maintain my relationships, but to grow them quite intimately. I gain insight, humor and comfort from our time together. Some strongly contend that computers, with e-mail and skype, has also allowed for the same flourishing of relationships. I don’t know. Perhaps I am just old-fashioned (as I still enjoy a nice piece of snail mail), but I prefer the simple voice at the other end of the telephone.