It allows me to talk to my cousin Minna and Auntie Pat in New York—and friends Lucy in California and Amor in Michigan—for hours on end. Toll free.
They are like voices coming from the next room. Our chats range from our health woes to what has happened to this and that, or anything under the sun (Philippines) or the moon (USA), or vice versa.
It also allows me to listen to Adrian say his new words.
Adrian: “Rrrrrrrr.”
Adrian’s mom: “How does a dinosaur sound?”
Adrian: “Rrrrrrrrr.”
Adrian’s mom: “How does a dog sound?”
Adrian: “Rrrrrrrrr.”
Those wonderful sounds, courtesy of this thingamajig, are like caffeine that keeps one wide awake while working.
Vonage was sent to us from the US by Adrian’s parents through a nephew. Tony didn’t really want it. Let me rephrase that—he didn’t think it was necessary. Neither did the boys. When they wish to speak to someone somewhere in the world, they use the VOIPs available in the net. “In this day of computers, there is hardly any need for the phone,” they said.
But the Vonage had arrived, and I saw in it countless possibilities. So I did what I couldn’t do before it came to our lives. I called Minna and Auntie Pat and Lucy and Amor and of course, the gift givers, JB and Gianina, with the big bonus of talking to Adrian who will, in no time, progress from sounds to words. I was in no hurry to hang up. Neither were they.
Week after week, I glance at this thingy and still can’t get over the thought that I can lift the phone anytime, talk to loved ones in some place yonder, and fret not about phone bills.
It is a gadget of grace.
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