150 years ago today the first phone call was made.

In just a 150 years we have gone from that to where we are now. The contrast between a world, where the transmitting of a scratchy voice represented the very pinnacle of communication technology, to now, cannot be understated.

And yet the miracle of this power is lost on many, abused by others, and too often its overconsumption is overlooked as an answer to the question "why are we all so overwhelmed".

Instant communication has turned in to instant insistence, in to demand. Yet with its advancement it has also brought us the potential for moments that feel transcendent. Moments that to those closer to one end of the scale than the other, truly are awe inspiring.

I know some may dismiss this as misty eyed hyperbole, tech worship from a sci fi nerd in her 30s. But I had in part lost some of that soft mist from my gaze. What reminded me of it and- in coincidence with the anniversary of that first phone call- inspired this piece of writing, was something my grandfathers friend told me yesterday.

You see we were at my Grandmothers funeral, and whilst Mavis had a wonderful and fulfilling time on this earth (as attested to by the turn out at the celebration of her life) the end of that life came suddenly and as unexpectedly as it can be at her late age. Rushed to hospital and diagnosed as terminal with just weeks left, when just weeks earlier she'd been singing and telling stories of her childhood at our kitchen table.

Now this article isnt just me talking about this wonderful woman or sharing my grief (though im sure subconsciously that's there) but this context is important to the core of what i am talking about.

As is to be expected people wanted to visit her in those last weeks. As is also to be expected, those close friends and other relatives of hers who wanted to visit, had been made as distant as they were aged by the passing of time.

And so we come to the wake, and i am talking to Ernie, at 92 he is one of the few originals left of my grandparents friend group, a group that had lasted more than half a century. He was unfortunately ill in Mavis' final weeks and so could not risk visiting. But the story he's telling me isnt one of regret or sorrow. He's smiling and rejoicing because he'd been helped to facetime Mavis in that crucial time.

Now to some of us that may not seem like much, but as he so succinctly ands sweetly put;

"I got to see her, to really see her"

To him that ability to talk and see the face of a loved one in real time was as powerful as seeing her in person, it bought the closure a phone call of photo couldn't. I believe it did so because to him that technology still held such wonderous impact as only novelty can give. He was not jaded by its overuse, he appreciated it for what it gave him, a final moment with a dear friend.

This isn't some "oh look how good *insert your chosen phone company here* is" thread. Its about appreciating how far we've come, and how that same beautiful story has a million ugly equals. I suppose what im saying is that we need to appreciate the gravity of what we've done, what we have, the impact this new communication paradigm has had on us in a century and a half. We should perhaps look more to those who've lived near a century themselves to understand that power more fully.