.הַבּוֹקֶר הֶחְלַטְתִּי לְהִתְקַשֵּׁר לְאַבָּא שֶׁלִּי
,הוּא נִמְצָא לְבַד בַּבַּיִת מֵאָז שֶׁאִמָּא נִפְטְרָה
,בִּתְחִילַּת הַשָּׁנָה
.וְרָצִיתִי לִשְׁאוֹל לִשְׁלוֹמוֹ
.הוּא עָנָה מִיָּד לַטֶּלֶפוֹן
,שׂוֹחַחְנוּ קְצָת וְהוּא סִיפֵּר שֶׁהַיְּלָדִים כְּבָר לֹא בָּאִים כֹּל כָּךְ לְבַקֵּר
.מִכֵּיווֹן וְהֵם עֲסוּקִים
.חָשַׁבְתִּי עַל זֶה לָרֶגַע וְהִסְתַּכַּלְתִּי סְבִיבִי בַּחֶדֶר
,הַכּוֹל נִרְאָה רָגִיל
,אֲבָל מַשֶּׁהוּ בְּקוֹלוֹ שֶׁל אַבָּא
.הָיָה שׁוֹנֶה
,הַאִם זוֹ אֵיכוּת הַקַּו
,שָׁאַלְתִּי אֶת עַצְמִי
,אוֹ שֶׁזּוֹהִי אֵיזוֹ תּוֹכְנַת בִּינָה מְלָאכוּתִית
?שֶׁגּוֹרֶמֶת לַטֶּלֶפוֹן לְהָתֵל בִּי
,אוֹ אָז, תּוֹךְ כְּדֵי שֶׁאֲנִי מַקְשִׁיב
,וְחוֹשֵׁב
,נִזְכַּרְתִּי שֶׁאַבָּא נִפְטָר שֵׁשׁ עֶשְׂרֵה שָׁנִים
.מוּקְדָּם יוֹתֵר מֵאִימָּא
.כָּעֵת נִשְׁמָע קוֹלוֹ שׁוֹנֶה מְאֹד
,זֶה לְלֹא סָפֵק מַשֶּׁהוּ מְלָאכוּתִי
.הֶחְלַטְתִּי
,זֶה
.אוֹ שֶׁאֲנִי שׁוּב חוֹלֵם
,הִבַּטְתִּי בְּטֶלֶפוֹן
,הִסְתַּכַּלְתִּי שׁוּב סָבִיב
.וְאָז הִתְעוֹרַרְתִּי
,שָׁכַבְתִּי בְּשֶׁקֶט לְרֶגַע
.גּוֹמֶא אֵת שְׁאֵרִיּוֹת הַחֲווֹיָה
,נוּ, טוֹב
,נָשַׁמְתִּי עָמוֹק
,לִפְחוֹת כָּךְ אֲנִי יָכוֹל לִשְׁמוֹעַ אוֹתוֹ מִידֵּי פַּעַם
,וְלָדַעַת
.שֶׁהוּא בְּסֵדֶר
The Call
This morning, I decided to call my dad.
He has been alone at home since Mom died,
At the beginning of the year,
And I wanted to ask how he was.
He answered the phone immediately.
We chatted for a while, and he said that the kids don’t come to visit as much.
Because they are busy.
I thought about this for a moment and looked around the room.
Everything seemed normal,
But something about my dad’s voice
Was different.
Was this the quality of the line,
I asked myself,
Or was it some artificial intelligence program,
That was causing the phone to mock me?
Right then, as I was listening,
And thinking,
I remembered that Dad passed away sixteen years
Before Mom.
Now his voice sounded much different.
There was no doubt this was something artificial,
I decided.
That,
Or that I was dreaming again.
I looked at the phone,
Looked around again,
And then woke up.
I lay quietly for a moment,
Swallowing up the remnants of the experience.
Oh well,
I took a deep breath,
At least this way, I could hear him occasionally
And know
That he was okay.
May 14, 2025
How many times does it take reaching for the phone to share the latest Joy or heartbreak with the person you’ve always shared with before you stop reaching?
Very poignant! I wish I could still hear his voice. There are still certain times I want to call and tell him something he would appreciate.