Recovering a Loved One’s Voice

For a long time I never deleted the first message on my answering machine: I needed to save his voice.

One hurried day, I listened to the messages and then hit “delete all.”

I gasped and I tried to stop it.

Too late.

I felt to the floor beside the machine and sobbed.

I had just deleted my father’s voice singing Happy Birthday to me.

He was dead. He’d never sing it again.

And I knew I’d never hear his voice again.

In not saving that bit of tape, I’d lost my ability to share his voice with my children and others–so it felt like his voice, just like my mom’s, was lost forever.

I can still hear their cheerful voices in my head–my mother, father, grandparents: Mom is calling me to wake up; Dad laughing at some silly remark. My Sicilian grandmother’s voice is shrill but kind, and I still don’t recognize where my Utah grandmother got her well-loved twang.

Their voices are gone in the physical, a whispered memory in the metaphysical.

Save the Interviews!

Two years ago while sorting through possessions, I found an audio tape marked, “Rosie Interview.”

I inserted it into the old car’s cassette deck (the only tape player we owned) and once more heard Auntie Rosie’s voice answering questions about her childhood.

I had sent them to her 25 years before while I was writing my grandfather’s biography. With three pages of questions to answer, she decided to tell the stories rather than write them down.

I’m so glad she did.

It was a special gift then but even more precious now–eight years after her death.

Her newly engaged granddaughter was having a party to celebrate and my techy-daughter figured out how to transfer the tape to an MP3 and burn audio CDs.

We made a half-dozen and she took them to the party–where the bride-to-be’s eyes filled with tears when she realized whose voice was on the CD.

Rosie’s brother and other children were also thankful to have her voice back.

I was only sorry I didn’t have a tape of the bride-to-be’s mother, and then a grudging thought flit through my mind–“what about my mother?”

Her voice went silent in 1995.

My dad’s in 2002.

All I had were echoes.

Voice Serendipity?

Earlier this year I stumbled onto another unexpected box of audio tapes.

I sighed. Here was another antiquated technology I needed to deal with. (You can read about obsolete floppy disks here).

As I turned over the tapes, I remembered all the happy times I had listened to them in the car. (I love the Classical Kids Collections). So many memories!

I’d always enjoyed a Pirates of Penzance performance I’d taped off the radio. I reveled in the rollicking music and sang along. It ended just as I turned up my street. I let the tape play out and just as I reached my driveway, my father’s voice boomed.

I was crying before the garage door opened.

I hadn’t heard his voice in 13 years.

My son had used that old tape to interview Dad discussing his family history.

I only had five minutes of his voice, but I sobbed hearing him again.

And then, just a scrap of seven or eight words: my mother helping him answer a question and the tape clicked off.

Mom!

20 years!

I was a near-hysterical wreck, replaying and replaying, and each time, mom’s sentence was cut off before she was done.

Inconsequential words, but her voice just the same.

I’m crying right now.

My daughter transferred the clip to my computer and I shared it with my brothers. My parents’ voices, just a smidgen, not completely lost.

I’m so thankful, for just that much.

Get out your phone!

My point?

You’ve got a recorder on your phone. Record the people you love.

It doesn’t even matter what they’re talking about–in fact, a regular conversation can be a pleasure.

Listen to their voices, you’re going to miss them one day.

And for your children and your grandchildren–record yourself talking.

A loved one’s voice is a precious gift.

Whose voice would you like to hear today?

Tweetables

Serendipity and a lost mother’s voice. Click to Tweet

You’ve got a phone: record their voices while you can! Click to Tweet

Recovering a loved one’s voice for comfort and sharing! Click to Tweet