Connectivity

After weeks of being connected on dial-up Internet access, I must admit that I am over it. Over it, big time.

I hadn't even realized how completely connected my life was until I was unplugged for a while.

Between my home computer, the kids' computer, our laptop and my Treo, I was never really out of touch. My closest friends are scattered all over the country but we remain close online. Most importantly, my husband is serving his country overseas but we stay in touch over the Internet.

I have often thought that this has drastically changed what it means to be a waiting wife.

I cannot even imagine having to wait weeks for one letter from the man I love to know how he fares as was the case in so many wars that have come before. Not only am I able to talk to my husband on the phone every week or so, we can exchange e-mails whenever he is near an Internet cafe and has time. I could even see him via a Webcam if I really wanted to.

There is a downside to all of this instant access. As horrible as it was for a new widow to find out her husband was KIA via a telegram from the War Department, I imagine it is just as horrible to find out that something bad may have happened to your husband via CNN.

In fact, after September 11, 2001 I stopped watching grown-up television all together. If it wasn't Dora the Explorer or a DVD it was just too risky. I didn't want to have my world rocked via the evening news. If I'm going to find out that my husband is dead, I want a live human being at my front door looking me in the eyes.

But now you can't even check your E-mail without the national news popping up on the screen. It seems like it has become impossible to disconnect completely.

Just a few moments ago, I was checking to see if I had another e-mail from my husband when I spotted the headline that there was an explosion during rush hour in midtown Manhattan. A steam pipe had burst sending a plume of muddy steam as high as the Chrysler Building.

My dear friend works in Midtown. I immediately whipped out my cell phone to call him.

It rang for a long time and I was starting to get nervous when I finally heard his voice. You know something bad happened when the first thing someone says is, "We're okay, but..."

My friends were walking a block and a half away from the explosion. They're fine and they were eating dinner when I talked to them. My guess is they decided to fuel up for the long walk home to their apartments.

This time it was a steam pipe in New York City. But next time...well...you just never know.

Sometimes I don't know if all this connectivity is a curse or a blessing.