Lisa recorded our voice mail greeting at some point long ago. Over four years later, I had not recorded over it. So if you called our house, she would greet you.
However, after years of going out of my mind with Time Warner Cable, I decided to go with a new carrier. After I made the decision, I realized it would mean our voicemail greeting would be deleted. I’d have to re-record.
We worked hard to preserve Lisa’s voice, saving it on every phone and computer the family owns. And now, if I want to hear her, I just pull it up on my iPhone or Dell and listen. Sometimes its just nice to hear.
A while back my minister talked about the importance of voices. Someone referred to your voice as your thumbprint on the world. Man, I wish I could still hear those who are gone.
I imitate my friend Trey but I long for that slow southern drawl. He died in a car wreck several years before Lisa.
I lay in my bed the other night trying desperately to remember how each of my grandparents sounded. I almost could – my Grandmama Tanner’s laugh, Granddaddy Tanner telling me, “You have a hole in your head boy.” I could see my other grandmother’s face – she was by me on the bed. But I couldn’t quite remember her voice.
It’s like the inflection is there, rolling around the outskirts of my cerebrum, but I just can’t pull it out.
What a shame.
I get used to pictures, but I always had to brace myself when I phoned the house. Not in a bad way, but I had to be ready. Sometimes her tone would bring a smile. Sometimes it would bring longing.
I don’t know what I miss most – seeing, touching, or hearing her. She was a talker, man could she move those lips. Sometimes I’d wish she’d stop chatting everyone up after church and just get in the car – I was hungry!
Now I’d give anything to stand behind and wait. If only to hear her one more time.
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