The phone number we were assigned whe we moved here to Snow Belt was one that previously belonged to "John" and "Darlene".

One thing I know for sure about John and Darlene is that they owe people money. Lots of money, or at least enough to prompt collection companies to call this number day and night. For the first year we lived here, I tried to patiently inform every collector of the situation, letting them know that the number they are trying to reach has been reassigned and that I do not know John or Darlene, or where they can be reached. Eventually, after threatening to turn the callers in for phone harassment, they got the message.

I hadn't heard the names John______ or Darlene_____ for a long time.

Then yesterday, I came home in the afternoonn, and began preparing for the clergy support group that was coming over for dinner and discussion last night. I checked my voice mail while I put lasagne in the oven. What I heard stopped me in my tracks.

"Hello, John. I didn't recognize the outgoing message on your machine, but I know that this is your number. This is your brother "Carl", your older brother. I know that today, February 23, is your birthday, and that you are younger than me, but I cannot remember how old you are. If you remember who I am, I want to wish you happy birthday. Call me."

Obviously Carl and John have not spoken in at least two years, or Carl would know that John has moved on. And though they are brothers, they don't know each other very well. The potential for back-story here is huge!

This just made me sad. To think of the missed connections, the lost brother. It made me want to call up my own two siblings. I don't ever want to lose touch with those whom I love that I don't remember how old they are and don't know their phone numbers.