Why I Don't Erase My Voicemail Anymore (or The Voicemail Afterlife Part II)

"Happy Anniversary to you….” My grandmother Rose’s Brooklyn-tinged singing voice is just slightly off-key. Even though she passed away four years ago, she still sings for our anniversary each year — because I saved the voicemail of the last time she sang it.

When she was still alive, I hardly bothered to listen to her voicemails the first time around. Returning her missed calls thus meant entering a conversation midstream. “Hi, Grandma. What’s up?” — “So as I was saying, she’s coming to Rosh Hashanah, so it’d be nice if you all made the trip…” — “Huh, who’s coming? And where are they going?”

Then one day, almost overnight, she wasn’t able to leave me voicemail anymore. A short visit to the hospice was followed by a lengthy mourning period during which I all but shelved my phone. Its very existence seemed to mock me, each ring a reminder that she would never call again.

Several weeks later, sitting in a parking lot, ....

For the full article, go to the Jewish Daily Forward, where it was published initially.

This article is the sequel to The Voicemail Afterlife, which first appeared on Modern Loss.