MargenI put my phone in airplane mode so I could finally sleep — no groups, no offers, no breaking news that can wait until morning.
At 2:40 it vibrated.
A message. Sender: «Dad». Dad died in March. I haven't been able to delete his contact; or to look at it either.
«Are you awake?»
The phone was still in airplane mode. No signal, no wifi, that little plane at the top that cuts you off from the world. I sat up in bed, frozen, and answered with clumsy thumbs:
«Yes.»
«Good. I'm not writing to scare you. I'm writing because airplane mode is the only way: when you're connected to everything, there's no room for me. Sleep. I just wanted to know if it worked.»
In the morning there was no trace of the conversation. The logical thing: a dream.
But ever since, every night, there is one minute when I wonder. And every night, before I sleep, I switch on airplane mode.
In case there's room.