i just called my father. i have not previously spoken to my father in my adult life.
sitting quietly at my workstation in toronto, I googled a first and last name, located a number and placed the long distance call to a doctor's office in thunder bay a few hours away.
his assistant answered. here at my desk, I remember that I am also an assistant (not a distraught woman child.) From assistant to assistant, I say, "Hi Donna, how are you today? ... Yes, I'd like to speak with Dr. A... No, I am not a patient; is it possible that I speak with him directly? ... My name is Jamilah, j-a-m-... Yes, he'll know what this is regarding... Yes, thank you."
there is no ring, just an immediate click, "Hello?" - his voice is higher than i expected, more hesitant, less abrupt and not as substantial. "Hello, is this Dr. A.?" I ask. "Yes," comes the reply. "This is Jamilah," and I launch into the meat of the reason for calling for fear that pleasantries might derail or impede the reason for calling: "I was wondering if you will be in Toronto any time soon?", "Oh Toronto, I just came from there, " he sounds relieved - I am not fazed and I continue, "Well, I've just missed you then, but I'm sure you'll be back in the summer and so I'd like to give you my number here. When you come back next I would like a chance to talk to you." Pause. "OK, just a moment, " he concedes and I take a breath before saying slowly, "416..."
I read his doctor ratings online - their are hateful or glowing - I'm glad; I will make sure I get a chance to decide for myself.
I realize afterwards that there were alot of words missing from our conversation: father or daughter, for example. No mention of the number of years passed since I was three and last knew you. No mention of a visit when i was six and thought I knew you. No mention of a letter exchanged when I was twelve and realized I did not know you. Now 25 - who is there to know now?
Nos conseils pour un café comme dans un coffee shop
11 months ago
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