Friday, June 19, 2009

A heartbreaking message of staggering length

Being on bedrest means a lot of things, one of them is that it’s easy for people to find you. You are primarily, well, in your bed. I am allowed 1 hour total up-time per day, to shower, pee, walk to the fridge, drag my ass out to the chaise lounge, etc., but for the most part you’ll find me in bed, working, or reading, or online shopping, or the like.

My kids joke that they’ll always be able to reach me, as I normally have my phone right next to the bed.

But sometimes people come to visit, and we normally head out the detached family room, so that visitors don’t have to hang out on my bed with me. I sit back on a recliner and revel in the grown up who’s come to ease my boredom and save my sanity.

Last night my great friend Kendra came over, bearing an incredibly delicious Thai dinner homemade by her Thai friend, whom I’ve not met, but who I'm now a big fan of.

We ate, we talked, T (my husband) and she drank beers (okay, I had one too), we laughed; it was a great time, and I was out in the family room for hours.

When I crawled back into bed, I picked up my phone to see that I had 4 voice mail messages from my kids, well, from one of my two kids, the younger one, the soon-to-be five year old.

Uh-oh I thought, 4 voicemail messages in 9 minutes, someone really wanted to tell me something. My guilt was already mounting as I pressed the playback for the first message, which turned out to be a hang-up. It was the second message, the one that ran out after 3.05 minutes, that was the knife to my heart.

And here it is, in it's entirety, all said through tears and dramatic inhales of weepy breaths:

Mommy, I wanted to tell you I want to talk about my birthday, but I can't because
you’re not on the phone (sob); but I wonder where you are; if you have time, after
dinner, [mumble, mumble, mumble], okay?

And Mama? I wanted to tell you (long pause), that I miss you, and I really want you, and daddy said it’s a message, but I still really want you, where ever you are….

I want to tell Cappi [her baby sister that is still in utero] that I love her, and good
bye, and I’ll see you to-moooorrow and then, when I get home, I will talk about
my birthday with you…. [Unfortunately, she is at her dad’s for the weekend, and
I will not be seeing her until Monday late afternoon]

I mean (sob), I will call you every day, okay mama? Because I won’t be home.

If I leave a message, please call back, okay? If you don’t answer the phone. Please,
PLEASE mama, okay? I really want to talk to you. But I don’t even know where you
are. (weepy sigh)

So bye mama, I love you (kiss sound)

Bye Cappi, I love you (kiss sound)

Bye T, I love you (kiss sound)

Bye, Miss Lilly (our cat) I love you (kiss

Bye, Samba (our cat who ran away a few months ago), I love
you (kiss sound)

Mama, mama? Please call me back. Please, please, pretty please call me back when you see my message.

Everybody….kiss, I love you everybody. Kiss, kiss, I give you a hug, and I give you a million kisses…. in my heart.

And no matter what you look like, I’ll still love you Cappi, and Mama. I’ll blow you a million kisses in my heart.

I love you mama, I love you everybody. Huggies. Bye.... (another weepy sigh)

Please call me back, please, please call me back, when you’re done.

Kiss, kiss,

I’ll see you on Monday. Kiss

Bye, Mama, bye T, bye Miss Lilly, bye Samba, Bye Henry, up in
heaven (our dead cat), bye, um, um…..
And the message cuts off.

Big weepy sigh from me.

It made me want to drive over to her dad’s house, righ then, at 10:05 PM, and wake her up and give her a big giant squeeze. But of course I didn’t.

I wish I had an audio file of the poor girl's mommy angst. It's all at once funny and sad and pitiful and touching, and it makes me love her fiercely.

And to think I’m having another one of these little girl people…..(sob, sob, weepy sigh)


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Awww, honey pie. Did you talk to her this morning? My kids get really pissed when they get my voicemail. If I do not answer immediately, they will call every 2 seconds, becoming increasingly unpleasant. The last time this happened I was at the gym, and had like 5 messages from my boy, who started out saying "can I please go to the park with conor?" and ended with "MOMMY. I keep ASKING you. HE NEEDS TO KNOW IF I CAN GO."

Imagine if they had lived in a time without cell phones or voicemail? When you had to just wait for someone to get home and pick up the phone if you wanted to call them?

I once dislocated my elbow at school, and my mom was at a quilting group and my dad was in surgery and I sat in the principal's office for a couple of hours holding my loose elbow in my hand until someone could be tracked down. And it was uphill. both ways!

Kids today don't know how to suffer properly.


feeling the love and angst in central PA said...

oh beth...(sob, sigh) that was just the SWEEEETEST thing ever! You have to save it so that when she is 13, and you can barely see that sweet self through the mascara and rolled eyes, you can play this audio alone and/or with her, and remember this unabashed LOVE she has for her little world that is YOU!!

give her a big squeeze from me too and I will try to remember to send one of those animal cards so she remembers me :-)

Me, You, or Ellie said...

Oh. My. God. This is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever read (I *love* the title, btw. Perfect). Poor little pathetic peanut.

Henry and Cappi, huh? The girl's got some love to dole out...


Lola said...

Oh, that would kill me! My son's voicemails are heartwrenching enough, and all he usually says is, "Mama, when are you coming home? Daddy is being sooooo annoying."