Have you ever gotten one of those stray text messages on your cell phone, definitely not meant for your eyes, and from someone you don’t even know? I have. More than once, in fact. I always wonder how they accidentally send me a text when they live in another state with a completely different area code. But somehow, through the magical, mystical world of cellular chaos, I receive a message meant for a stranger.
A couple days ago I got one from a woman in Virginia. She wanted to share her mammogram and ultrasound experience of the day with her sister. She just didn’t know a woman in Minnesota would innocently intercept that message, read it with a completely baffled look on her face, and go back to what she was doing with only a slight question in her mind as to whether she knew the person on the other end or not. When I received another message that said, “Oops. Wrong sister. Sorry,” I suddenly wondered if my mom had forgotten to tell me something. After all, I’d been raised with two brothers. No sisters in sight. Suddenly I was a sister, just not the right one.
This random texting is apparently better at discovering relatives than Ancestry.com. Someday when I want to delve further into my family background I might just send out some texts to far away area codes and hope for the best. Like those scientists who send signals into space hoping to contact an alien from another planet… hopefully a really nice relative alien, and not one of those slimy, killer ones like in the Sigourney Weaver movies.