Cleaning up the Contact List

Every now and then, I scroll through my contacts and clean up the list. I save numbers, sometimes, for short-term need, and don't always remember to dump them later. Sometimes, needs change - we move to different doctors, for example, and don't need those older numbers any longer. And, I also thin out numbers from where we used to live. I usually keep a lean contact list.

The other evening I was doing that, planning to delete our old dentist's number. As I scrolled through, I came across two names whose numbers are no longer needed. At first I was going to delete them, but when I tapped their names, and their information came up, I just couldnt do it.

The first name was my friend and old boss, Raymond. He died last fall. His memorial service was the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I had spoken with him a few weeks prior to his death and it was still in my "history" under his name: when I had called, how long the call lasted, his home number and his cell number. He had used his cell phone. We talked 54 minutes and 34 seconds.

The second name was my Uncle Bill. He passed last week after a very prolonged illness. When I was at Seminary in St. Louis, he and Aunt Sharon provided a home away from home for my wife and I, as well as a voice (and ear) of wisdom and encouragement in church work struggles. His contact information was woefully outdated - he and Aunt Sharon had recently moved; I still had his St. Louis number in my phone. But, I also had his email and we corresponded that way a couple times last fall. That was in the "history" - four emails, two outbound, two received, with the subject heading.

And, when push came to shove, or more accurately, delete or not delete: that is the question, I couldn't do it. I know it seems ridiculous. They were just electronic bits of data, and that phone number and that email would never be used again. There were no voice mails, or even pictures of these two men. But they stood for something:  I wouldn't hear a Raymond story, or get Uncle Bill nuggets of wisdom again. Those two contacts - those two history reminders - are there. And, even though they'll never be used again, they will remain. They are taking up an iota of Google's seemingly infinite, vast domain. But in my heart, and in my memory, they are large...larger than 54 minutes and four emails. They are part of me and for what these two men gave me, I'll be grateful.