Gammy Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Since September 24th of 2009, I have been in a state of funk that creeps at least once a day into my life. It was on that day that I realized I could no longer pick up the phone to call and talk to one of my best friends, my mother-in-law, who passed away the day before.

For over 25 years I talked to her almost every single day. I would even call her at a great expense when I was out of the country on a business trip or vacation. She meant that much to me. For over fifty years, she had the same seven digit phone number and it was always number two (number one being 911) on my speed dial.

So last week, I'm not sure what prompted it, I pressed the number two on my cell phone. I'm not sure what I expected, but I did not expect a male voice on the other end to say, "Hello". I choked and stammered and said, "Hello" back. And then I did about the dumbest thing a human being has ever done while talking to a complete stranger on the phone, I started to cry while unloading the pain of missing my dear sweet Gammy over the past seven months. I told him all about her and how lucky he was to be the new owner of her phone number.

I can't believe he listened to me. He didn't hang up, he didn't laugh, he just listened. And when I was finished, he said so very gently, "I'm sorry, but Gammy doesn't live here anymore". So Gammy, if you're into reading blogs, please know that a really nice guy (I didn't get his name and I'm too chicken to call back) has your phone number. I only hope that when he calls Pizza Hut to order a pizza, the employees that knew you as a loyal customer and loved you almost as much as I did, don't fall into the same blubbering diatribe as I did.

I still miss you.