A Missed Call
The answering machine gave its familiar Please leave a message after the tone and after moment I started:
“Hey, do you remember that box you lost in grandma’s attic? I found it the other day while sorting through her things. She- passed- I guess you heard, and I’m sorting through everything. She had so many things; you wouldn’t believe all the ceramic cats. You know, those ones that crept you out? A whole collection of cats with little numbers on the bottom; I’ll count them later. –
But that box. I think you said it had pictures, and trinkets from your father, it does, and it also has a few things from grandpa, and some of our old letters. I wish you were here to see them. There are pictures from when you were a kid and living in that ugly brown house you told me about, and some from when you lived in Washington, at least according to the backs. There’s also that pocket watch that Grandpa gave me. The one that he claims was given him during the war by a civilian he helped, and a few of his war medals.
From your father are some of those water colors he drew of the “Saints and Effigies”, as he called them, and a letter from when you were in the hospital the first time. Also our letters from our first summers together, remember those? I always loved getting letters from you, even when I’d written to you online before hand. There was just something better about seeing your handwriting-
I catch myself expecting another from you, like those last few weeks in the hospital, when we’d exchange letters every evening about the little details that happened that day. I placed those in a three ring, and added them to the box. –
But, I just wanted to let you know I found it, and I wish you here-
and I miss you.
I hung up the phone and I looked down at the red light of my answering machine, and I wondered why I had started leaving her messages she would not come home to.