Yes, yes, we're rather dull these days and the heartbreak doesn't vary much either
I could talk at length abt the latest Islamic insanity, i.e., *enter Calimero-esque voice* Oh we're offended, we're offended, we're so very hurt bcs you depict our prophet in compromising positions, you may mock all religious figures, we couldn't be bothered abt the others, but not our prophet so here's Hitler in bed w Anne Frank - *covers mouth* eh eh eh, SEX! - and we'll see how you like it, you bloody Jew pigs, damn you and the mare you rode in on.
*YAWN*
Yes, scary, yes, expected, yes, demented, yes, hardly surprising. Don't feel like talking abt it, couldn't even if I did bcs HAVE INANE EXAM SCHEDULE, in case you had forgotten. Actually passed the exam I was sure I'd failed. Actually had one of the best grades. Said grade was a sad one really, 12/20 - exam was bloody awful, the failure rate was 63%, terrifyingly, but the teachers fully took the blame which is always a refreshing thing to have happen in my faculty. More often that not we are called lazy and stupid and it's all our fault and no, am not joking.
Also.
Got to the end of my binder just now and there was a blue sticker w a phone number on it which was very familiar. Took me a moment to place it, it was from our kibbutz room, when I still lived w Uzi. Punch to the gut, yes, hardly surprising but still, here we are. I rang him, how could I not. Just to see if the number was still working, just to see if I could still reach him, symbolically speaking. Well, he didn't really answer, death being in the way, the phone rang for the longest time and then the voicemail came on, after all this time, and all of a sudden he was talking to me and God, I know his voice so well. Worse, there was a beep and he told me I could leave a message if I was so inclined.
On the 20th it will be a year since he was buried. Already. Already a year since I last set foot on Israel, not that I have good memories from that time, or many for that matter, I seem to have surpressed most of them, Lisa keeps telling me abt things I don't remember we talked abt at all. My Tig, my Tig, my Tig is buried, my Tig is STILL buried and yet he still talks to me when I ring him, echoing the voices in my head that whisper his name constantly.
I left a message.
*YAWN*
Yes, scary, yes, expected, yes, demented, yes, hardly surprising. Don't feel like talking abt it, couldn't even if I did bcs HAVE INANE EXAM SCHEDULE, in case you had forgotten. Actually passed the exam I was sure I'd failed. Actually had one of the best grades. Said grade was a sad one really, 12/20 - exam was bloody awful, the failure rate was 63%, terrifyingly, but the teachers fully took the blame which is always a refreshing thing to have happen in my faculty. More often that not we are called lazy and stupid and it's all our fault and no, am not joking.
Also.
Got to the end of my binder just now and there was a blue sticker w a phone number on it which was very familiar. Took me a moment to place it, it was from our kibbutz room, when I still lived w Uzi. Punch to the gut, yes, hardly surprising but still, here we are. I rang him, how could I not. Just to see if the number was still working, just to see if I could still reach him, symbolically speaking. Well, he didn't really answer, death being in the way, the phone rang for the longest time and then the voicemail came on, after all this time, and all of a sudden he was talking to me and God, I know his voice so well. Worse, there was a beep and he told me I could leave a message if I was so inclined.
On the 20th it will be a year since he was buried. Already. Already a year since I last set foot on Israel, not that I have good memories from that time, or many for that matter, I seem to have surpressed most of them, Lisa keeps telling me abt things I don't remember we talked abt at all. My Tig, my Tig, my Tig is buried, my Tig is STILL buried and yet he still talks to me when I ring him, echoing the voices in my head that whisper his name constantly.
I left a message.
Labels: My Own Private Yorkshire, Uzi my Tig
posted by Lioness @ 12:28 am
15 furballs
15 Comments:
Good for you for leaving a message, even though it must have been hard. It must have been nice, but hard, to hear his voice. When my brother died, my parents & I searched long and hard for any video of him that was longer than a quick snippet. It was frustrating not to have a few minutes worth of tape to revel in, to recall his voice or his movements or his smile.
Thinking of you...
~hugs~
It is good that you left a message.
I miss you and I'm thinking of you. Wish I could be there to give you a big hug.
Beijos
"...and then the voicemail came on, after all this time, and all of a sudden he was talking to me and God, I know his voice so well. Worse, there was a beep and he told me I could leave a message if I was so inclined."
That is so... unbelievable. I would never even have thought of phoning. And then he is till taking messages.
What is that all about?
I sorrow for the day the voice is no longer there.
I smile at the thought that he received the message, the universe being the pervese place that Douglas Adams knew it to be.
I am pleased that you can cross one more exam off your long, long list. One less thing.
I'm glad you left him a message.
I wonder who's still paying his phone bill? You probably aren't the only one who calls.
It's frightening how quickly time flies. Did G-d come up with that formula?
There's a part of me who is wondering that if anyone is paying the phone bill, that if this number still exists because you need it exist. I think you needed to leave that message for Uzi and God made sure you could.
I still know my Grandmother's phone number by heart and, when in my car accident years ago, rattled it off for the ER staff. I wish she would answer.
I need to make something clear. All numbers on the kibbutz start w the same 4 digits, and then the last 3 are the individual ones. You can dial the 3 ones for inside calls, for free. So what's probably happened was, his number was never disconnected and given to someone new - I was, and am, dreading that - and no one needs to pay for it bcs no one is making calls from that number. It sort of exists in the ether now. If I could, I would make sure it would remain active for ever, I could ring once in a while and tell him things. I know it sounds demented but it's sort of like blogging when no one is really commenting, still very comforting.
(Dany, it's been such a long time! HI!!! I haven't checked your blog in ages - or anyone else's really. Meh. Feel free to email w delightful life details, and send a big fat kiss to E.)
I find it incredibly moving that you left a message... and somehow... I feel like he got the message. Shoot me now if that's just too corny... but it's what I instantly felt in my gut.
I don't really know what to say but I'm glad you left a message and that he got to hear it somehow. Betty xx
I would have left a message too. I am so glad you had the confort of hearing his voice and so sorry for the pain you are feeling.
Oh, Lioness.
A long time ago when someone I loved who lived on another continent died, I used to call her phone number and just listen to it ring and ring and ring and ring.
That was before voicemail.
I would've left a message, too. I'm glad you did.
And-- you're back!! Yay!
Elswhere, you told me that bfr, I remember now. Sucks rock, yes?
Hello Lioness. I am so pleased that you are writing again, and congratulations on making your bones.
How wonderful that you called...and heard his voice. May you always hear his voice. I feel confident that message or no message that you will always hear his voice.
Take care.
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