Six. It has been 6 weeks since Dad died and I have 6 saved messages from him on my answering machine. I am obsessed with that machine and the messages. I have not yet been brave enough to listen to them except for the one time I played the last one by a mistake. That was not brave it was just stupid and the sound of his voice brought me to my knees. I am not sure if and when, maybe never, I will be ready to listen to them but I like knowing I have them. Whenever I walk by the machine I glance at the “6′ and my heart says Dad. In a small, weird way it comforts me to know I have a piece of him captured on the machine. I will not let anyone touch the machine but me for fear of losing the messages. Six. 6 weeks and 6 messages.
The Noise In My Head ( and it is silent except I keep hearing “Let it Be” on a continuous loop and I am wondering if you are tired of me talking about my Dad).