August 16, 2017

"They kept a heart connection not just to his teachings but to something of him"

His Voicemails Were a Kind of Afterlife

My iPhone died last week. There was no warning. The phone just powered off, and no matter what I did, it wouldn’t come back on......there are some items on my phone that are special.

the voice memos... of my kids from when they were much younger. Some from my parents, some from my mentors — those are special ones to which I occasionally go back and listen to...And there are voice messages from Vincent Harding.

Those voicemails were the treasure chests where his gems were stored. How often I have come back to these voicemails over the last three years. I sobbed when he died, and I cherished his words, his voice. They would comfort me. They were my link to a world of justice and love, wisdom and beauty that seemed so urgently needed and yet so far away. They were a personal connection to Uncle Vincent and, through Uncle Vincent, to Martin King. Somehow the voicemails were a kind of afterlife. They kept a heart connection not just to his teachings but to something of him.

They lingered, even after his death. And they are gone....

And now those voicemails are lost somewhere on my iPhone. Inaccessible. Lost. Gone. No, I had not backed up my phone. Don’t ask me about the regret now.
Posted by Jill Fallon at August 16, 2017 11:19 AM | Permalink