I called a dear friend the other day. My dumb phone (as opposed to 'smart phone') didn't alert me to her message to me until 10:17 p.m., though she left it at 3 or so. So, my phone is dumb.
I heard the 'message sound' from downstairs but I was upstairs and decided if it were vital, anyone calling my cell at 10:17 pm would call the land line and I could answer upstairs. Lazy, I know, not to walk down 13 steps to get a voice mail, but hey, I am lazy and steps are the last challenge to my September knee surgery.
Anyway, I called her back the next morning but her mailbox was full.
We got in touch and did what we needed to do by phone and email, but when I emailed that she 'should erase old messages' she wrote back that she 'hated' to erase messages from her kids and those she loved but would consider recording them somewhere else and emptying out her mail box for new messages.
That fascinated me.
I erase voice messages as soon as I listen to them. So I emailed back asking if she just 'hated' erasing messages from those near and dear or if she actually went back to listen to them? And, I told her I didn't know which would be more weird.
I got an email back. Seem she has voice mail from over the years. From her mother and her kids at various ages. And she does sometimes listen to them as a reminder....
I'm going to have to ponder all that.
For me, voicemail is a minor annoyance sooner gone the better.
For her, they are archives of times gone by and remembrances of things past.
That would have never occurred to me if I hadn't asked.
An auditory memory. I'm much more drawn to memories on paper or in pictures.
But it is something to ponder, to be with, to glean wisdom from....
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About Me
- Under The Castor Oil Tree
- some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.
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