Do you receive text messages in heaven?
I.
I remember how creepy I thought it was
When your mother
Kept your father’s voice on her answering machine
Long after we had grown used to his absence
We would be startled by his vibrant voice
Greeting us and explaining that They
“were not able to come to the phone right now; Please leave a message—”
You and I often argued about getting rid of our landline
and the companion answering machine.
Me, saying it was a monthly bill paid only to receive robo-calls and recorded requests for donations
You, saying, “But what if one of the boys have an emergency?”
Which always stopped the argument.
After you died one of the first things I did was
Cancel the landline and disconnect the answering machine with your voice
(Whose warmth was so frequently noted by callers)
The boys all have me on their contacts list;
“We” would not be answering that phone anymore.
II.
The light on your cell phone kept blinking
All day. All night.
All week. All month…
Three months.
I kept it plugged in, charging, just in case
Just like you left it–
Just in case.
Finally, packing up the house,
Your phone was left in the now-empty space
Still blinking.
I unplugged the phone from the charger, and pressed the voicemail button
“Can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message”, you mutter with clenched jaw, (Seemingly annoyed by the hassle of creating the request–)
And I hear your friend Scott respond “Goodbye, Old Buddy, I will miss you”.
Tears flowing, lost between now and then, alive and dead,
I shut down your phone for the final time.
III.
Now when I call your number, the phone company informs me “this number has been disconnected”.
I can still text you, though. You just don’t answer.
nancymansberger 