Jill's Journal: Messages from Mom

In the spirit of spring cleaning, the other day I clicked on the “voice messages” link on my cell phone. As expected, there were a boatload of messages for me to scroll through. And as planned, I began the mundane task of deleting the boatload of those no-longer-needed messages. 

I’ll admit that I quickly grew tired of the two-tap process: The first tap was simply to choose the message, and the follow-up tap was the actual “good-bye for good” tap.

I started by clicking away all of the assumed “scam” calls and accompanying messages. There were lots and lots and lots of them. I have to wonder how anyone has the time to make these calls. I assume they’re accomplishing it through the “benefit” of robo-calling.

Next, calls from some of the “usual suspects” – friends and the office – were eliminated from the massive roster of messages.

As I continued to scroll through the barrage of messages, I came upon a handful of voice messages left by my mom. After her passing in late 2021, I decided to keep some of her messages. There are times, like Saturday, when it just feels good to hear her voice again.

I smirked as I listened to each one. Most of her messages began with, “Hi, Jill, this is Mom.”

That was so her.

She never fully understood all the perks of a cell phone, namely, who’s dialing you up. Although she had a cell phone, she used it sparingly, preferring to use the landline. That phone, she clearly understood. She had it loaded with the numbers of usual suspects – family, friends, her doctor’s office and the like.

In one of the saved messages, she was asking about the spelling of the name of my great-nephew, Cameron. 

Another message gave me the play by play of a large tree that she was having removed from the boulevard. Along with the play by play, she shared that the neighbor took some photos of it that she would be texting to me just in case I wanted to see removal in progress and the end result.

The last message I have on my phone is from Sept. 8, 2021 at 8:39 p.m. Her message was short and sweet: “Where are you?” I imagine this message was one of a handful that she had left and I had yet to return. It’s likely I was covering a meeting or snapping pictures at a sporting event. She understood my work and her calls that I missed from time to time. 

I’m not going to delete these messages from Mom anytime soon, because there are times when it just feels good to hear her voice again. Times like Saturday.