I called my dad today just to ask him something.
He answered on the second ring and sounded so happy to hear from me.
We talked for maybe five minutes.
Before hanging up, he said, “Call me again sometime. I like hearing your voice.”
I said I would.
Then I sat there staring at my phone, realizing how often we say “sometime” to people we quietly assume will always be there.
Some calls become memories before we even realize they were important.