Saturday, August 27, 2011

In Memorium--Part III

For reasons I am not yet prepared to detail, I waited until evening to call my mom yesterday.  I picked what I thought would be a reasonable time to call when you consider meals, naps, etc., but she wasn't home.  (Or, at least not answering the telephone if I called.)

So, I got the standard Dead Dad greeting on the answering machine.  Yes, I totally understand why an old(er) woman living alone would want to have a male voice on her answering machine, but hearing Dad as part of an ordinary activity FREAKS me out.  It's the little things I'm not thinking about until they happen that catch at my heart.

Of course, Mom being Mom I am not prepared to share this with her.  (Since she never uses a computer, I feel no compunction in possibly letting everyone else know my attitude.)  My commenting would result in too much criticism.

But, my mother could have my brother record a message.  He has a pleasant voice.  If I failed to notice some radical shift in the universe and Mom would prefer not to have my brother's voice on her answering machine, I'm sure one of her sons-in-law would gladly record a message.  Mom could also ask one of her grandsons or her grandson-in-law, too.  In a pinch, Mom's great-grandson would probably love to record a message.  (Of course, since Omaha's only 2-1/2 years old, the message might be a tad unintelligible.)

If Mom derives some small measure of comfort from having Dad's voice on the answering machine, then I am truly scum for freaking out about it.  But, I can't help how I feel.


  1. I am sorry you are having a hard time.

  2. To The Wife: I am not opposed to hearing his voice. It's just that I would prefer to be better prepared. Every time I hear that recording, I feel just as I did the day Dad died when I pulled his clean slacks (which I washed the night before) out of the dryer.

    The ordinariness of an answering machine message disturbs me when it can no longer be replicated.