Rants and Ramblings: random commentary about culture, media, politics, technology and whatnot.

teledrama

My friend Carina called me last night to drop a bit of a bombshell: “I just got a voicemail from Danielle. Her dad died!”

Danielle, Carina and I have been friends since high school. The news of Danielle’s father’s death came as quite a shock: Despite being treated for cancer last fall, he had recovered pretty rapidly and was doing well, the last I had heard.

Carina had earlier in the day called Danielle to tell her about her new job. Danielle had called back and, in her rapid-fire way, left a message that was something to the effect of “My dad died. We’ve got family in town and it’s been really crazy. Congrats on your new job.”

We chatted for about 20 minutes, letting that soak in. We mourned our friend’s loss and wondered what we might be able to do. Inwardly, I was a bit unnerved by the stark reminder that, yes, our parents are mortal.

Minutes after I hung up with Carina, my phone rang again. Carina, a bit sheepish, told me that she’d listened to the voicemail again and now she wasn’t so sure about the message. Danielle had been talking so fast, it was possible that she actually said that her dog had died.

It was too late in the evening to call Danielle for clarification, so we decided to leave it until the next day. As I got ready for work this morning, I struggled to strike the right tone as I mentally composed a sympathetic e-mail to Danielle: something to the effect of, “I heard your dad died. Or your dog. Or nobody. I have no clue, but I hope everything’s okay.”

I sent the e-mail before I left for work, and I didn’t hear anything from Danielle or Carina. Worried that I’d catch Danielle at a bad time, I called Carina instead when I got home from work. Danielle had called Carina back late last night to clear up the confusion: Thankfully (given the choice of dad or dog), it was her dog Chewbacca that had died. “It’s been a crazy week, but not that bad,” she told Carina.