“You never call, you never write ...” We have all heard that guilt-inducing line from parents and grandparents, longtime friends and former colleagues in faraway places. And it makes us realize we could be better communicators -- by letter, email, phone call and even Skype.

These days, though, there’s another gripe added to the mix: “You never text!”

Now, I have embraced text messaging for the last few years, getting speedier by the day. My thumbs relish their new purpose in life.

I have used text messaging in a practical manner, as in getting additions to my shopping list from my husband while I’m at the store. I have used it to be confrontational, as in blasts of “WHERE ARE YOU????” to my kids when they have stayed out too late. I have used it to nudge my pals to take their turn on Words With Friends.

But as for conducting “What’s up?” and “How ya doin’?” types of conversations by text message, I remain as old-fashioned as a dowager with a quill pen.

It is partly that I can’t stand the physical constraints of creating thoughtful, conversational paragraphs on the small screen of a cellphone. How do I know when I’ve gone on too long, when my text spills into three or four screens on the recipient’s phone? And is the recipient expected to comment, one topic at a time, on everything that I have just related? Do I wait for her contribution by text, or do I just keep on exercising my thumbs?

More important, what if I have caught a friend or relative at the wrong time? I am befuddled as to the etiquette here: Does a text message demand that person’s immediate response? Am I supposed to be peeved if a reply takes two or three hours? Should I care about the length and quality of the response, or is it as ephemeral as a junk call?

I still have correspondences from my high school years -- letters, not stone tablets. I’m not THAT old! And I like the remnants of long-ago hearty conversations that still echo in my head.

But I am in a quandary as to the lasting significance of text messages. No matter who they are from and the gravity of what is being said, at some point my cellphone is bugging me to delete them.

My kids, young adults now, tell me to get over myself. Text messaging is a great new tool for conducting conversations, they say, and it’s not evolved enough to have its own set of rules. Their biggest concern is that I not embarrass them by using “LOL,” “JK” and other shortcuts.

My daughter says that she has had some of her best bonding time with a girlfriend who lives in another city by exchanging long, almost daily text messages. No topic is off limits, and they level with each other more than they might do so if they were face-to-face.

My son uses texts to friends he hasn’t heard from in a while when he’s hesitant to dial their phone number, for fear of interrupting them at their job or during a class. When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he doesn’t take it personally. I have heard him laugh upon seeing a text message and then reply with gusto.

For me, though, text messaging remains a poor substitute for letter-length updates and the give-and-take banter of long dinner dates and family reunions.

So here’s what I’m going to do the next time someone wants to substitute texting for a real conversation:

**Call me!**