This evening we received a phone call. Upon answering it, I heard a familiar voice and my heart leapt. It was Barry. My head swam, my heart pounded. How could it be Barry? He’s gone. But maybe it was him and maybe the past five weeks was nothing but a dream.
In the depths of my soul, I knew there was a reasonable explanation. However, my heart could not help but be hopeful. I am still able to hope, which means I haven’t accepted what’s happened fully yet.
I became distressed and confused. The voice was Barry’s, the wording was Barry’s. How many times had he said those exact words to me over the phone? Countless times.
“What’s happening?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and then it happened.
“Mum, it’s Daniel. What’s wrong?” He heard my confusion and quickly became concerned. He stopped his fooling around.
“I thought you were Barry.” I could have cried. Another hope was dashed in an instant.
“Oh, Mum, I’m so sorry.”
How was he to know what Barry used to say to me over the phone? Daniel hasn’t lived at home for four years. Why did he choose now to use that particular tone and wording? I know he was only mucking around. I’m glad that he feels content enough to be able to do so. I truly am. I’ve literally prayed to hear Barry’s voice again, and now I have. It felt so strange, so good, so painful.
Is my fragile mind playing tricks on me? Or did something else happen tonight? To be honest, I really am NOT in the right frame of mind to be able to work things out, especially something like this.