He had the greatest voice. I'm so blessed to have heard it every day and night for 15 years. It is torture to listen to the messages. Torture to sit here crying and longing for him to be beside me. Torture to still be able to read into the words he was saying and know when he was sad, cold, nervous, optimistic, and (most tortuous of all) in love with me.
The message I repeat over and over contains these words:
"Hi! I love you. I just wanted you to know that. I hope you've had a great day today. We'll see you when you get home. Bye bye."
Just 28 words. How can I treasure 28 words above all other words I have heard spoken or that I have read? His voice was like none I have ever heard before. He had a great way of expressing himself. He was a man whose voice could calm a hysterical grown child when injustice was served to her. He was a man whose voice could reassure a daughter in the troughs of child labor to know that she could push that baby out because she was made with "Canadian blood" in her veins. His voice could ward off questionable suiters yet be perfectly welcoming to the many young men and women who spent their youth in our home every weekend. His voice could summon angels to the many family and friends in need of special blessing. His voice could pray with fervent strength and thanks when he prayed. His voice could always lift me when I was sad, make me laugh hysterically when I needed a laugh, and could help me fall into sleep at night with just a soothing whisper in my ear, "I love you"
His voice. I miss it. And him.
|I'll bet it was a GREAT story!!|