Yesterday marked the two-month anniversary (angriversary? antiversary?) of Dad's death, so it seems appropriate that today I got a belated message from him.
As mentioned earlier, I have 14 saved voicemails on my cell. Approximately eight are from the monkies: one with Ella having a one-sided conversation with Nana (Ok, ok ok ok. Nana, ok ok); one with Alex and Lily singing me "Happy Birthday" two years ago; another of Ella as she carries the phone (and my voicemail!) around the house carrying about her day; another of Alex telling me he's going to "eat all the birthday cake. I mean wedding cake."; one of Lily telling me she's ready to put on her dress and "go to the party"; another from Ella accepting my lunch invitation on the day Sienna was born; another one from Ella reading me a bedtime story; and one of Gabi showing off her new vocabulary "cookie! cookie!" Two were from B, sweet messages from when we were dating or engaged and simply dreaming of being in the same place. One was from a financial advisor. Another from a girl at work giving me directions... you get the picture.
The last one in the phone was Dad. He had this fabulous, random habit of prank calling me (or maybe it wasn't just me...?). It started in college, when he'd call pretending to be my ex-boyfriend asking to speak to B or if I got the flowers he sent. Other times he'd call pretending to be my boss and threaten to fire me for planning the wedding. Frequently he'd call pretending to be B, asking me out on dates and whatnot.
This morning, I was clearing out my inbox (did you read the part about my having 14 saved messages?), and found this gem:
"A? This is Harold K at the law firm. We're going to offer B a million dollars a year with a 10 year contract and the first three years he doesn't even have to come into work. Anyway. Thanks here. Bhbye."
I miss you, Dad. In a happy way, today.