My “kids” often say I’m a technology dinosaur. But I’m a dinosaur in so many other ways as well.

Recently, when I reached for my spiral-bound, paper-based address book, I caught myself reflecting on the many cross-outs throughout the book—as well as the many entries needing to be crossed out!

Now keep in mind, my address book is at least 31 years old. How do I know that? Well, it contains my 31-year-old son’s original pediatrician’s phone number (the one who actually came and examined him at the hospital when he was born). A month later we ended up with a different pediatrician, so the original doctor’s name and info was soon crossed out. There’s still an arrow from that cross-out to the replacement pediatrician’s name and number. Of course, that doctor’s contact information, too, was crossed out long ago.

I have always kept all of my family members’ doctors on the initial pages of my address book (for easy and quick access), so there have been a lot of cross-outs on these pages over the years… the orthodontist for my youngest’s braces, the allergy specialist for both sons… surgeons for broken bones and other injuries… vital support at various times throughout my family’s life. But now, it’s been decades since the last office visit for the bulk of them. My two sons are young adults and have their own doctors. My husband and I have recently moved, so an entire set of new doctors, dentists, specialists, and labs have replaced many longtime practitioners.

Hmmmm… I see it’s time for some additional cross-outs since our move.

I pick up the book, flipping past the doctors’ pages, and find myself under the “A” tab. There, I am quickly confronted with the aftermath of a friend’s divorce. A husband and wife’s first names with their shared last name, both friends at the time… but then, the husband’s name crossed out. Later still, an arrow from that cross-out, pointing to a new entry with just his name, with his new address. But then later still, after it was difficult to be friends with both, another cross-out was made. The husband’s separate information barely legible now with many pen-marks scratched across the entry. Now, the arrow is left pointing to nothing, only reminding me of the sadness that there wasn’t an ability to remain friends with both.

As I continue through the pages I see the progression of my friends’ lives as they’ve moved from living at home, to apartments and roommates…and then to their own homes. Spouses names have been added in, maiden name changes, address changes… people’s initial cell phone acquisitions suddenly squeezed in to an already crowded entry! Only those of us who are truly viewed as obsoleted can remember back when there were no cell phones.

As I continue to flip the pages, now I see entries for the children of friends, with multiple cross-outs on their changing information as they’ve grown, moved, and perhaps even married. It’s fun to see the progression of my children’s peers as well.

Not so fun, still flipping through the book, are all the cross-outs due to deaths. Many from decades ago. Most were older relatives or people connected with my parents—their friends, neighbors, and affiliations. Also reflected are friends’ parents who have passed over the years. Many of those cross-outs came after attending a bittersweet funeral (as the cycle of life brings friends together at those times).

My elderly mom lived with us for almost a decade, and so, there are dozens of entries for her various contacts over the years. Most are crossed out, others need to be… after all, she has been gone for over a decade. Still, the names of her most faithful and longtime friends stare up at me from a few of the pages. I haven’t had the heart to cross them out. I sent most of them Christmas cards (yes I know that Christmas cards are becoming obsoleted, too) for decades—even after my mom’s death—but several years ago finally felt it was time to stop given the passing of time.

I remember when my mom passed away, going into HER address book and calling each name to let them know she had died. Most of the people I knew, but there were a few names I didn’t recognize. When I called one of them, it took a while to figure out the connection. It turns out the couple bought my parents’ home when my mom downsized after my father passed away. It had been decades, yet they still remembered her fondly. Even after I called every contact in her address book, I couldn’t discard it. It just seemed too final. Somehow it connected me to her past. I’m pretty sure that I still have it packed up somewhere (and yes, I am a memory hoarder).

There are many pages in my address book dedicated to my two sons’ lives. Roomies and landlords relating to dorms, apartments, and rental situations as they went to college and moved forward in their lives. Then a purchased home. Their friends, girlfriends, and friends’ parents… some are crossed out, but many are not, the connections still there. Lots of names relevant to their evolving ages and stages of life. Boy Scouts, school-related parent teacher associations, sports teams, volunteering at the high school or other activities. Some of the names now only register as being “Scout-related” or ‘PTA-related” but the actual person no longer registers in my mind.

I laugh when I see how some people have moved so much, where others have no address cross-outs on their page. Some people have so many address changes (you know who you are) that there are arrows referring me to a different page; or in some cases, white sticky labels have been applied across the worst of a page’s cross-outs.

Other divorced friends appear throughout the book. Sometimes, the couple now split onto two pages, two different alphabet tabs. The liberal use of arrows, new mates’ names entered.

There are a number of work contacts over the years. I can see my career progression clearly in the contacts’ status. Most from my years in corporate marketing are crossed out, but only after multiple address changes were made. So, I did keep in contact for a while. A few I’ve kept in touch with via annual Christmas cards. Recently, a relative of one sent me a note that the individual had died the year before. I wouldn’t have even known had they not reached out to me. In the past decade, all my freelancing clients, and their key people, are listed. More recently, contacts relating to a book I just published on Amazon (Caring for Mom and Other Loved Souls) can be found.

And sadly, now I see more and more cross-outs as the result of my own peers dying. Great friends, old acquaintances, neighbors who have come and gone from my family’s life. It’s always been difficult to actually cross them out, or to delete them from Facebook or LinkedIn. In many cases, I just haven’t… they have become ghosts on those sites, appearing occasionally on their birthday or supposed work anniversary.

Some of the names in the book are tied to such wonderful memories… connections made when my family had a mountain cabin. Neighbors/friends there… some are still connected via Facebook, others are long gone other than in the many photos from those years.

There are dozens of entries relating to contractors who worked on our original family home. Curated over the almost 30 years we lived there, and who we left behind when we recently downsized and moved. Some were like friends, hard to cross off, but the connection completely obsoleted by our move.

Funny entries that bring up funny memories. The Public Storage site where we kept my mom’s storage for 9 years (and then tossed its contents when she passed away). The phone number for Paul’s Drapery… my first big splurge when we bought our family home. Custom drapes! Had never had them previously. I’m almost tempted to see if they still exist, but it’s more fun not to know.

Throughout the book you see a sprinkling of my curious passions over the years. San Jose Prepared personnel (contacts made during an earthquake preparedness period of my life), a lengthy list of California Great America’s Halloween Haunt personnel, a reminder of my 3 years as a professional zombie at a theme park having a huge Halloween Haunt event each year. I worked with a group of young adults the age of my own kids at the time. It was so fun… and ghoulish. I loved it. Now, all of those contacts have been crossed out. I wonder sometimes about the “kids” who called me “Mom” in our zombie crew. Now, we only exist as ever having been connected on my HauntZombieMom Instagram page.

I was a community news reporter for many years, so there were literally dozens of contacts relating to that passion. Publishing people, local politicians I had interviewed, community leaders, school personnel, people who I had written stories about… so many interesting people who I would have otherwise not had a connection with over the years. A Pulitzer Prize finalist, Corinne Reilly, who later helped me hunt down a Vietnam soldier who had written to me when I was in elementary school. All but a few have come and gone… so many cross-outs, but many great stories and memories.

Still flipping through the pages… In the “Ks” I find my elderly mom’s hospice aide. What a wonderful, caring woman. Now that I’ve written a book about caring for my mom (I mentioned her…dear, sweet Kato), I almost want to reach out to her and thank her again.

I’m adopted and recently found some biological family, so my birth dad’s niece and a few other names and numbers of biological kin have now found their way into my address book. This is a recent and evolving part of my life. For now, I’ve written “bio-relative” next to entries, just in case someone ever needs to know, “Who is this person in Diane’s address book?” I think about how someone, someday, may need to look through this book to let people know that I’ve passed. Will they try to contact all the names that aren’t crossed out? Hmmmm… I guess I’d better get busy updating.

Finally, looking through the pages, I reflect on a few of the names of friends who have been lost for reasons other than death and divorce. Friends who have been lost due to other painful events. A few even crossed out due to the challenging politics of the day. One crossed out due to a broken friendship; that’s a particularly sad one… and I have subsequently re-written the friend’s name into my book again. I guess I’m not ready to let go.

As I update a few more cross-outs I see I have dozens of blank pages I could use to update the worst of the crossed out pages. I might even have enough clean new pages to update the entire book, if I wanted to. Brand new pages with only the names that are not crossed out. No changed addresses, either. Perfectly updated and clean.

But I’m reluctant to do this. If I do… I’ll lose the history. I’ll lose that moment of reflection when I see a crossed out name, as I think about the person, even if for only a second. It’s a weird connection to people I’m no longer connected with. But it reminds me of my life’s progression.

I think I’ll keep my obsoleted book, cross-outs and all. A dinosaur wants to remember her past.