I couldn't believe it happened. I deleted the voicemail from my dead father off my phone. I kept it on my phone for probably a year. Listening to it everyday. I would hear his voice and it was like he wasn't even gone. There was nothing in this world that I cherished more than that voicemail. And I deleted it... on a whim... on accident. It was just one of those moments. You know, those out of body moments. You're just moving and you're looking out of your eyeballs, but you're just along for the ride. I was having a lot more of those moments back then. Misplacing things and finding them in weird places. Pouring my creamer into a bowl of cereal. Just the simple stuff that blows your mind because you realize how much you're out of control.
The feeling that I had when I realized that I hit seven and not nine made me sick. I had always pressed seven. Seven was a given. No matter what, I was programed to press seven. But why did the nine look so good to my subconscious? I'm trying to figure that out.
Because the truth is, I know he's dead. I just liked hearing his voice. I've always been scared that through time I'd forget it. So I listened to his voice everyday and night and just close my eyes and imagine him speaking so that I wouldn't lose sight of him. I'm angry at my subconscious. She's a mean and evil bitch. Why couldn't she just let me have that voicemail? What was she trying to prove?
I felt like I lost something else that day. Like I was losing my father's memory. I realize now through time that I couldn't possibly begin to do that, but hitting nine at that very moment shot panic through my body. I remember even feeling it in my feet. It was like I was standing on pins in my kitchen.
I have a few things that belonged to my dad. Some of his coats, a military pin, and a little rock that I had painted him as a kid. I love those things but it's just not the same. Having his VOICE was such a gift for me. I felt truly lucky, but now it's gone.