Don't judge! I'm improving, in baby steps. I used to play games on my phone instead of going to sleep. I haven't done that for a few months now, thank you very much. Now I just watch videos and read random articles and sometimes get caught up in searching random things that may have crossed my mind at some point during the day and made me think, I should look that up later. (I think they call that "doom scrolling" and it may or may not be better for my health than playing games, but that is not the point right now.)
On this particular night, I noticed that there was a number by my telephone icon. I hardly ever use my phone as an actual telephone, so this caught my attention. A few clicks taps later, I had discovered a file called "Deleted Voicemails" that apparently contained 666 messages. That's an odd number, I thought, although of course by definition it is, indeed, an even number. Religious and somewhat superstitious that I am, I decided I had to do something about that, like maybe delete all of the "Deleted" voicemails. Because I'm also the kind of person who likes to delete "Deleted" anything files, because if I said I wanted them deleted, why aren't they already deleted?! Annoying.
But 666 is a big number for a person who doesn't use their phone as a telephone, so I thought, I wonder how long it took me to amass 666 deleted voicemails? So I started scrolling down the list which, of course, also shows names/numbers, dates and times, and transcriptions of questionable but somewhat decipherable quality.
And then it hit me: these go back for years. One of the things I was bummed about after my Dad died was that I didn't have any saved voicemails from him -- my Mom was always the one who called on their behalf to wish me happy birthday or whatever, and they changed the greeting on their own voicemail a long, long time ago to go with the mechanized generic voice instead of his. It seemed like a long shot, but what if somewhere in those 666 messages was one from my Dad? It was a chance I was willing to take.
And...I found one! Not just one, but I actually found about six of them! Oh my gosh. I felt like I had just won the lottery. I listened to them, of course. It was so amazing, hearing his voice again! Not the strange, quiet voice he had at the end, but the robust, happy voice he used to have. They weren't very long messages, and in fact they were all kind of about the same thing, but still...hearing him say my name again, hearing him laugh, hearing him say, "Talk to you later, love you, bye" again...I genuinely cannot put into words all of the emotions I was flooded with. I thought I would never hear his voice again! So the surprise of finding these treasures, and the tremendous joy and extreme sadness of listening to the messages...I was such a bawling mess after that. I've never been that happy but crying so hard in all my life.
I literally could not stop just thanking God after that. I couldn't even find succinct ways to express my thanks, which I usually make an effort to do. It was just a non-stop stream of, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you" until I fell asleep. And when I woke up to empty my bladder, I started thanking Him again, and in the morning when I woke up, I started thanking Him again. Because I just have, like, no other explanation for finding those messages at that moment when they've obviously been there for a while.
I haven't listened to them again yet. This happened a week ago, last Friday night. Honestly? I'm afraid to listen again. The emotions that overtook me when I listened the first time were so intense, I don't think I'm ready to feel that again right now. Hearing his voice was so comforting, and of course I saved those voicemails in a couple different places so I don't lose them again (I hope!) now. Knowing I have them is also comforting. But hearing his voice was also very painful, and that's the part I don't want to revisit again yet. I'm sure that some day I will want to listen to them again, but not today.
It feels weird, almost "wrong" as if there was such a thing, to admit that. Like I should be saying I want to listen to it over and over and over again. Like that's what I'd have expected someone in my position to be saying if I wasn't the one in my position. The things you can't know about grieving until you go through it yourself, I tell ya...
Anyway. Once again I have managed to finish my point in the allotted time, and now work is beckoning me back. I suppose I should go take care of that; the sooner I finish, the sooner I can get my weekend started! And I was ready for the weekend to start on Monday!
Toodles...
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