Today I went to the ‘favorites’ section on my phone, found your name and clicked on your number. To my surprise, it rang. I listened to a few rings before I hit ‘end call’. I don’t know why I called. I don’t know what made me press those buttons. It’s been years since you’ve been alive and years since this was your number, though to me, it will always be yours.
Today I called you, knowing it’s impossible to answer calls from eternity. Also knowing your phone has been tucked away in a box since the day you were lowered in one. I’m not sure if I just wanted to see your name plastered across my screen or if I wanted to pretend for a second that you might pick up.
Today, for a few seconds, your name appeared on my phone, a vision I haven’t seen in far too long. Seeing your name stretched across the black screen gave me butterflies and a reminder of the way it felt back when getting this call was possible. I miss so many things about you, even the ring of receiving your call.
I miss the simple things.
Your voice. Your hugs. Your smile.
I miss the irreplaceable things.
Your influence. Your light. Your love.
I miss the timeless things.
Your pride. Your adoration. Your support.
I miss it all. The big and the little.
I miss you.
I know you’re in a place unreachable by telephone but I keep reminding myself you’re not unreachable. You’re simply more difficult to share things with, but difficult is different than impossible. While our conversations feel one-sided now, in reality it just takes longer for you to respond. You send signs, I know you do.
They’re different from the ease of hearing your voice but they’re just as significant. They’re sprinkled across my life.
The cardinals that find me.
The rainbows that appear.
The wind that comes in the moments when things are still and silent.
The butterflies that show up and find rest beside me.
The pennies that seem to appear in the oddest of places.
The heart shaped rocks and leaves and clouds.
The little symbols of love that you always send my way when I need them.
While I will never erase your name and number from my phone or my ‘favorites’, I’ll stop looking for you there. I’ll remind myself that while I can’t dial eternity, I can soak up the messages sent from eternity and from you.
I can’t receive your call anymore but I can still receive your love.
I don’t need a phone. Your love is everywhere. You make sure of it.
A thirty-something wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.