February 2, 2013
Well I cried in public again. And I feel like this probably isn't even the best way to start off a post, because I'm sure you're all thinking, "well of course you cried in public again...what else is new?"
But last night I was out with 7 friends, having some solid gal time and a few (and by few I mean several) appetizers. We were all sitting around and chatting, several different conversations happening at once. My friend, Kristin, proceeds to tell me a story about one of her friends that recently lost her father. She tells me about how her friend is grieving, wishing that she had at least had a voice mail from her father saved and that she (Kristin) informs her friend that the iPhone does in fact save deleted messages...and well, you can see where this is going.
So, of course, I pull out my phone and start trying to figure out how to retrieve deleted messages. In my head, and aloud, I'm like, "well I actually already have one voice mail saved so this isn't a big deal, let's just see if anything is left." I start scrolling through hundreds of deleted voice mail messages, searching for his name and my breath catches. There are three in a row listed from "Bender's Gym." And they are dated April 25th.
"Oh my gosh! I think these are from when Rich called me to set up my interview." (Don't know what I'm talking about? Refresh your memory by reading this.) I hold the phone up to my right ear and plug my finger into my left. All I have to hear is the beginning to know that these are, in fact, the messages that started everything. I start squealing, laughing and crying all at the SAME time. It's hard to picture, I know, but it happened.
Maybe I'm just grasping at straws here to just hold on to anything and everything I have left. Maybe I'm over-romanticizing all of these tiny incidences. But I just sit in awe all the time of how fortunate I have been to continue find these random, priceless gifts. These things just excite me so much as they help me remember all of the little details about the beginning of our relationship. Often the things in the beginning get lost. They start to all fade together into one big blur, and 6 months later here you are and there they went. And here I am, stumbling upon memory after memory of our sweet time together. I get to hear his voice whenever I want. I get to hear how his voice changes from the first message (before we talked), to the second message (after we talked and possibly flirted), to the third message (after we met). I just feel so lucky. High five to you, Steve Jobs.