Saturday, September 9, 2017

Wrong Sarah Files: I Love You, Too Barbara

From time to time I get emails from Barbara. I don't know who she is but she thinks I'm another Sarah. I've responded a couple of times to her and told her she had the wrong email address but, inevitably, she'll email again. Her messages are short and sweet and she's always telling me how much she misses me and loves me. I'm not sure her relation to Sarah but I like to think they are old friends who maybe don't see each other often but when they do they pick up right where they left off. I have friends like that.

So, it's kind of nice to hear from Barbara, even though she's a complete stranger. I don't get any emails from loved ones anymore. It seems this form of communication is now reserved for retail promotions and school notices. Well, for me anyway. My dad used to email me all the time and we'd have long, deep discussions back and forth. He was hard of hearing and lived several states away, so it was the perfect way for us to communicate. Email freed us from the distractions that we'd normally have when talking with one another in person. He'd ask me to repeat myself and I'd speak louder and more forced and the words didn't have the same impact when shouted. He'd get frustrated and so would I. He moved away shortly after I graduated college and email became our number one way to talk.

Dad passed nearly three years ago. Every once in a while I'll reread our emails. Sometimes it's intentional...when he's on my mind and I want to feel like he's just an email away. Other times it's when I've been searching my gmail for something in particular - something completely non-Dad related - and the results include a conversation I had with him. There are funny jokes he'd send me, pep talks when I felt discouraged and, towards the end of his life, worries about my mother's future.

So, when Barbara reaches out...whomever she may be...I'll answer. Because it's nice to hear from someone who misses you.


Friday, September 8, 2017

Sorry, Wrong Sarah

For as long as I can remember, people have confused me with someone else. For most of my school years I was called Elizabeth..my older sister's name. And I got tired of correcting people (plus I was soooo shy), so I'd just answer to Elizabeth.

As I grew, people would tell me I looked familiar but could never quite place it. I took a job after college and a new colleague commented she knew a lot of people with my first and last name. I nodded awkwardly.

It was around this time when gmail first came out. Back then you had to be invited by another user in order to make your own account. I received an invitation and created, what I thought, was a clever username.

That's when it started happening. Since I created this email account, many years ago, I've received hundreds of emails intended for another Sarah. There's a hair bow maker out west. A charitable mom in Texas. A yogi, a lonely woman, a youth group member and so many more. In the states and other countries. I get family photos, potluck reminders, e-receipts and anything else you can think of.

So, after years of saying I'm going to write about this, I am finally writing about this.


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