Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Re Nothing

Dear John,

There's nothing going on here. There's nothing to talk about, but that never stopped us, did it? We could talk happily about nothing at all for hours on end. It was being together, or hearing each other's voices over the phone, or reading each other's texts, that mattered. Subject matter never mattered.

Oh, about hearing your voice: You know I saved your phone for Jen. Tonight she recorded your voice mail message onto her phone and mine. We both got a bit teary listening to you, but kept listening to you because it felt so good to hear your voice. I still have the answering machine, even though I got rid of the land line, because your voice is on the message. I'll go into the nursing home someday carrying that answering maching, and they'll probably put me in the dementia unit for it. (I'll also be in my five-pocket jeans, like I told my mother when she took me aside after my 25th birthday to tell me that I was too old to wear jeans.)

So tonight I get to go to bed with your voice in my ears. Thank you for that. I miss you so much.
Joan.

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