I have not disconnected Chris’ cell phone.
He has been dead for a year and a half.
I opened a chat yesterday intending to cancel it. It is a silly waste of money. I don’t have money to waste. I was chatting so I would be able to communicate through my sobbing and wailing.
We got disconnected.
I tried again. I had to wait. My anguish continued to build. My son heard me and came to me, thinking it had to be about Chris.
I explained that it was all I had that was a little of his having once existed. His voicemail message. I never called and listened to it, but it was there. It remained. I could hear him, if I wanted to. Someday, I might not remember his voice.
My son said that he would pay to have it continue. It is suspended, so it is not that much right now.
How long will I live needing to have the hope of hearing his voice?
The Downward Slope 