Two weeks ago, I got a voicemail from an unknown number. Google Voice saved this transcript for me
It’s your mommy. Call me back. I love you. Bye bye.
Something about it felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I was about to delete it, and then it struck me. I scrolled down – this wasn’t the first voicemail from that number.
It started nearly two years ago, in September 2015, when I got this voicemail1
If this is Kevin Mills Please call your mom back today. Love you, bye bye.
Two months passed, I never thought much of that message. Then in November
Hi, honey. It’s mom. I just wanted to thank you for the wonderful phone call. I love you very much, and I’m saving that recording so I can hear your voice. I love you son. God bless you, bye bye.
I was very depressed during this period, and had more things to worry about than voicemail transcripts which I probably didn’t even bother to see.
The next day
Hi Kevin, it’s mom. I just wanted to tell you thank you so much for calling and wishing me a happy birthday. It made my day, and I won’t make this message wrong. I just wanted to say I love you guys, and I love you, Kevin. God bless you baby. Bye bye.
Three days later, there was one more transcript. This one said the same stuff, except it indicated that Kevin was her only child who had remembered to wish his mom a happy birthday.
Fast forward to May 2016
Hi Kevin, this is mom. I wondered how you can Karen were doing and I wanted to send my love to both of you. I’ve been busy trying to get through this little house, throw a bunch of garbage that I had to drag along, and exchanging the bed for another bed. It’s been a lot of work, but I got my front yard, and I’m really proud of it. And I went to church today, and we had a huge pot luck and I have some really good friends, and I’m just really happy and I love you too. Okay God bless you both. Give me a call back if you can. I love you both. Bye bye.
Three months later, in August, there was another one hoping Kevin would call back.
As I read all of these, I felt a wave of melancholy. Had this woman been trying to call her son for years, hoping he would call back? Had I been cruel to not let her know she had the wrong number? I decided I that needed to call her. I dialed her number once – no response. I dialed one more time, and a woman picked up. She sounded upset in the beginning, but when I explained why I’d called, she mellowed down and said she knew it was the wrong number, and apologized for calling.
Maybe those voicemails were never meant to reach anyone, and she knew that. Perhaps they gave her hope that her son would call back one day. Or perhaps I’m just over-analyzing and there is no deeper story here. I dare not call back.