If I were granted the ability to create a machine (fantastical or confined to real possibility) capable of defying physics, I wouldn’t opt for a car which runs on water or a teleportation device, excellent choices that they may be.
My device would be a telephone, one that would allow anyone, once a year, to call their most beloved person in the world, dead or alive, and talk to them.
While we love our accomplishments, exotic trips to Mexico or Disneyland, or even our Lexus in the cold concrete driveway, when we lie down at night, tired and contemplative, we hearken to those we knew and loved. The past is not behind as so much as it is embedded into the grooves our hearts and minds, sometimes for us to replay lovingly. Many times, we would humbly and gladly offer up all our luxuries and bells and whistles, if we could just hear someone’s voice one more time.
Time tends to quietly rob of us of our deepest connections, the trivial memories which, when combined, create a longing greater than the sum of their parts. This desire to recall vividly our shared moments is as much of our humanity as any other need or desire. While we love our adventurous lives, none of the distractions compare to being loved and listening to the voices ingrained in our memories.
As you finish your day today and pull down the covers of your intimate bed, stop and ponder the idea of picking up the phone and calling your mom, your sister, the friend from high school who didn’t come home one night, or even the childhood friend who populated your imagination and time so many summer nights of your youth.
The still, surprised voices on the other end, waiting to share memories with you once more. Imagine that voice now, as he or she whispers, “Hello, is that you?” Your heart both soars and drops simultaneously.