“Dear Mother,” my great-great-uncle Ernest wrote from his adventures in Spanish Honduras in September 1895. “The last letter I received from you was dated July 30, and I received one from George dated Aug 11. I wish you would write a letter every week.”
Comparatively, Ernest had it easy. He may not have heard from his loved ones as often as he would have liked, but at least he could read and write. When my Italian ancestors first came to the United States at the start of the 20th century, reaching relatives back home meant finding someone who could read and write in their Neapolitan dialect who could transcribe a letter for them, which would have to find its way across the ocean to a little mountain village so that family members over there could find someone in the town who could read the letter for them.
But in 2018 I can text my family 1,500 miles away and get a response in less than a minute when I want to find out how someone is doing, wish them a happy Thanksgiving, or make sure I have the right measurements for a family recipe.
Cellphones and text messaging has made the world a smaller place. Innovations like Facetime and social media make it smaller still.
Moving to Texas was an interesting process and it took some time. When we first started thinking about moving to somewhere more affordable than Washington, D.C., my wife and I weren’t sure where we’d end up. Of course, my wife always wanted to move back to her home state, but so much depended on where we both got jobs. With both of us employed in D.C., finding jobs elsewhere at the same time would be difficult.
Thankfully, my wife was able to find a job late last year where she can work remotely. That gave us the freedom for me to apply for jobs in any state. It just so happened that TheBlaze was looking for a staff writer around that time who would be willing to move to their location in Texas. Even better, I was able to work remotely for a few months, until we found a house that was right for us.
This Thanksgiving season, as I write this sitting in front of my own fireplace in my own home with my dog curled up on the couch next to me, I’m thankful for being able to buy a house, to be happily married to my beautiful wife, and to have been able to move wherever we wanted. I’m also thankful for the technology that, in a way that I’m sure would astonish great-great-uncle Ernest, keeps us so close to family and friends hundreds of miles away.