Silence. It is deafening, because “rings” have been very important to me. They were our special “thing” - not rings of silver and gold, but simple phone calls. They were treasures that cannot be bought. These rings were so simple, but so meaningful - our birthday calls that came, every year, without fail. Early in the morning - that was the cue - ring…ring…ring…and I would always record it. I answered on the third or fourth ring, scrambling - so I could catch it all. Hello? His voice, becoming more and more frail every year, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Lisa.  Happy birthday to you, and I love you”. It was my Pops, my Father-in-Law, the man that was the only father I had ever really known. With the exception of my Granddaddy, this man had been one of the most influential men in my life.