Skip to content

Can You Hear Me Now? Dusty Phone Reveals Dead Parents’ Message

I received a message from my parents on their phone the other day. Dad has been dead for more than a decade, and the eighth anniversary of Mom’s death is in July. But I got a message.

ParentsTelephone2

My parents’ phone. The number is blacked out in this photo to protect privacy, but the message to me was loud and clear.

I’m not talking about a message from beyond. I do not believe we should seek to communicate with the dead. At best, the purveyors of such messages are misled. At worst, they conjure evil spirits that pose as dead loved ones. However, I sympathize with mourners who seek connection.

I wanted connection. I especially wanted to talk to my mother about her death. I wanted to tell her I was sorry that I’d left angry. I wanted to tell her how much I love her.

There’s a distinct difference in seeking a live audience with the dead and what I did. I looked for connection at my parents’ empty home, but I wasn’t seeking out an apparition. I was looking at things from their past to find my way in the present. To find a way through loss. Through grief.

Unopened Mail

I looked to God for messages. And sometimes he used what my parents left behind – and the memories attached to objects – to give me perspective. Sometimes God allowed my memories and my unconscious mind to recreate my parents in my dreams. Being “with them” in this way helped me sort out emotions like sorrow and regret. I got to talk to my mom there. Sort of.

But sometimes I do get messages, like the other day. They are messages left long ago. God knew I would find them, or see them in another light, on a day that I needed them. On a day my parents could no longer deliver them. Like unopened mail, they were in that house waiting for me.

I found the latest message while dusting a small table. The table will be part of a huge garage sale, the last of its kind for us. After all these years, I’m almost done cleaning out my parents’ home. I don’t look forward to finishing the work nor selling the house.

The house is my connection to them.

On the table sat my parents’ old landline phone. Disconnected, it has collected a lot of dust. I sprayed it with Windex and cleaned it. That’s when I noticed the label on the phone’s handle.

The Message

It was not their phone number pressed into the label. The number was mine. They wanted to be able to reach me at a moment’s notice.

I stood there staring at the number and realized how important I was to them. I heard, “I love you,” in my soul’s ear.

It was timely. I don’t like tearing down the home they created. I’ve been its caretaker. Maybe they would say it’s OK. This is about you. Not about the house. Do what you need to do.

I’ve never been a parent. I don’t know what it is really like, but from time to time I see how important being a parent was to my folks. They adopted me, you know, as an infant. I know they probably loved me much more than I loved them. That’s got to be an incredibly big love.

I know, because I love and miss them so very much.

What is a message your loved one left? Where do you feel connection? What messages are you leaving behind for loved ones to find someday?

 

Copyright © 2017 by Toni Lepeska. All rights reserved. http://www.tonilepeska.com

 

Advertisements
2 Comments Post a comment
  1. richard #

    Very Good Toni, you have insight into what you say.

    Liked by 1 person

    May 1, 2017

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: