As you might expect, I am not driven numerically. Words and images dance around my head and heart, amid a constant flow of emotions, (and they can add up to a lot), but not much that I can put a number on. So when we travel from hotel to hotel, I have my own system of remembering the room numbers. Sometimes we get lucky and it’s as simple as 123, but that’s not often. Yesterday was a delight, as we made our stay in the area code my mother had for 50 years — 320. 

I don’t suppose I’ll ever forget that number. 320-763-5809. I remember it was a big deal when we had to add the 76 when we dialed. As a little girl, it was simply 3-5809. Eventually, as the town grew, we even had to add the 320. It was quite an uproar at first, but I rather liked it — having our own area code. A claim to this connection. And I suppose, that’s all anything is about. Having these connections. 

We are fortunate enough to be staying with good friends in Palm Springs. We have remained connected through these France years by phone. I laugh each time I see her number come up on my iPad — it’s still the area code from Chicago – 773. This is where we first met. Of course I could change it on my screen, but I like seeing it. It places us together, right on the park bench, and no time has passed, and we are sisters, girlfriends, ever connected, under a Chicago sun. There is no number large enough for the value of this kind of connection. 

You can call it girl-math. Or no math at all. I don’t really care. Are they prime numbers? For me, YES! And at this very moment, they are two of the largest sums I know.