Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: On the Telephone (11/18/10)
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TITLE: The Message | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jill Fisher
11/25/10 -
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Hearing his voice brings it all back. The images fly rapid-fire as I stare at the telephone key pad—frozen in indecision between the two numbers. I see him draped across my parent’s rusty couch, pecking at his ubiquitous laptop and watching the children building with Legos on the floor. I see him presiding over a table of youngsters, with one wayward teen jammed between the booster seats and high chairs—a not unwelcome guest in an otherwise full house. I see him as I did on that last night of vacation; thinner and with the weeping sores the experimental cancer drug caused, smiling a brave smile and talking about next year’s vacation.
His voice brings back the cold March wind that blew off the hills and froze my heart as I stood in the cemetery and watched the winch lower the casket into the hole that seemed impossibly deep.
I long to press one. I want to tell him that I’m sorry that I didn’t wait for him to wake up on that last morning of vacation before I left. I am a coward. I prayed for another miracle to spare his life, but knew deep down that I’d never see him again. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye.
I want to say that I think he is one of the best men I’ve ever known and to thank him for taking me in at one of my lowest points and launching me into adulthood at a healthy peak.
I want to tell him that I send Nancy flowers every year for Valentine’s Day—not just because I love her, but because I know he would have.
Beep.
“Hey Nance, it’s your sister. Call me back.”
I miss you, Tom.
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