I got the idea to call my dead sister’s cell phone from the movie P.S. I Love you, a story about a young woman whose husband suddenly dies.
Following the funeral, the wife lies in bed calling his cell phone over and over.
It was the saddest thing I’d ever seen.
When my sister Melissa died, I called her constantly.
I sobbed when she didn’t answer.
I sobbed listening to her voicemail and I obsessed.
I pulled my family into it.
It was a little funny.
During one of my routine calls to Melissa, something weird happened.
Something that barged in on my pity party.
Something that introduced me to Jeff.
I hung up on Jeff.
Melissa’s cell phone account had only been closed a few months. My beloved calling routine had been taken from me by Jeff, aided by the dicks over at Verizon.
As pack leader, it was my job to ensure that my younger brother and sister knew how to react.
Fueled by “coping-with-depression-via-alcohol,” I made a call.
I gauged his reaction to a drunk dial.
He seemed game.
Jeff and I connected immediately.
But I had the right number. And it was Jeff’s.
Jeff and I had an amazing summer together.
I couldn’t wait to get him on the line for a rip-roaring chat.
Classic Jeff.
I don’t remember much of our conversations.
What I do remember is the excitement shared when Jeff and I connected on the line.
If my life was a movie, Jeff getting Melissa’s phone number would have been one of those silver-lining things you hear about when people die. Like Jeff and I were supposed to meet. And Melissa dying was the only way that could happen.
A few months into my new routine with Jeff, I got a text from an unknown number.
My life isn’t exactly like a sad movie.
Author’s Note:
I discuss the 3 D’s and Jeff on the podcast Everyone Dies, a nonprofit exploring life-limiting illness, dying, and death. To jump to the interview, begin listening at 30:39 minutes in. 😁 In the first half of the podcast, nurse practitioner Marianne Matzo and co-host Charlie Navarrette discuss the role of depression, cognitive tests, and brain imaging used to diagnose dementia or other possible causes. You can find the podcast on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your Podcasts. Just search Everyone Dies (Every1Dies). Or listen here!
“Classic Jeff” — Hilarious! I had no idea this happened when someone dies.
Thank you Fran for reading!! That was one of my favorite lines too 😉
When my friend that I told you about disappeared, I did the same thing…. over and over. I did it so many times I worried the cops might get the wrong impression, but I think they see it a lot.
“Hi! You’ve reached Doris…and Julia [that last bit voiced by an exuberant 4-year-old]! We can’t come to the phone right now. Leave us a message and we’ll call you back.”
Jenn, thank you for reading and sharing your experience. Your comment gave me chills. It’s amazing how someone’s voice from their own greeting, or messages they left on your phone, can stick with you. These are the words that ring in my head.
“Sarah, call me back. I’m just gonna be watching a movie with the cat.”
It was the last voicemail I got.
<3
Yeah. And in the magical thinking of grief … how could she be gone if she just watched a movie w/the cat?!
Well exactly!
Thanks for being so awesome, Jenn. Miss you!
Sarah, I think this one is my favorite. Is it weird that I sometimes save old voicemails on my phone for years at a time just in case that’s the last chance I have to hear that person’s voice? I think that’s how movies like p.s. I Love You filtered through my anxiety brain, because that’s all I remember about that movie, the painful feeling of listening to the voicemail over and over again, and worrying that I wouldn’t have that chance with real people. Well that and the realization of how hot Girard Butler was and how green the set was.
Sometimes too it’s nice to replay the ones that are particularly heartwarming to remind yourself of the sound of that person’s voice when they are happy, even if they are talking about watching a movie with a cat, or getting on a bus with a stranger they’ve nicknamed “bus dude”.
Personally I think I love the text from the kid you received the most. Can you imagine the reaction from the dad that must have prompted that text?
I’m so glad you enjoyed reading the story of Jeff. I was apprehensive to share it since it was so damn weird of me.
Grief, and worry, do strange things to people. I cared about highlighting that. Like you said about why you save voicemails – you want them there “just in case this is the last time.” I think to some extent, we are all guilty of doing things like that when we are worrying. Worrying makes me totally bonkers. And movies like P.S. I Love You filter through my anxiety brain hardcore, too.
I have a day dream that someday Jeff sees this comic and we become best friends. Maybe I will call him and let him know “our story” is on the internet. I do have his number, after all.
This was hilarious! You probably get this a million times, but I love how the artistic style just adds to the comedy of how silly everything is. As for Jeff turning you down, it’s his loss, not yours XD
Thank you so much, John! I’m thrilled you liked the story of Jeff. I was having a rough night last night and saw your comment – it made my day. Thank you for reaching out, and for reading. I’m working on a new story that will hopefully be out in a couple of months. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on that one, too 🙂
Aw, thanks, Sarah! Glad I could put a smile on your face. I’m not sure how I even stumbled upon your page, but I’m glad I did. Can’t wait for the new story! Hope all is well and, if not, hang in there!
Haha, the internet is awesome for finding random things. I’m glad that you stumbled on my page too! And I seriously appreciate you taking the time to comment. I have a mailing list if you’re interested in subscribing for new stories – it’s here: https://mailchi.mp/ca0df5226e0d/adventureswithvrahcomic 🙂 🙂
I am definitely doing better than the other day, thank you!! Hope you are doing well today, too!
– Sarah