What will you leave behind?
April 27, 2007
My dad died two years ago and I would trade all my wordly possessions just to hear his voice again.
We used to talk every day.
And, when we found out he was ill, I was tempted time and again to pull out the digital recorder on one of his visits, to create a permanent record, but I never did.
I just couldn’t do it.
He was fighting so hard to save his life and had I asked for the recording, it would have meant acknowledging death was near.
By the time it couldn’t be denied, he was in no condition to share his hopes, dreams, stories or insights.
I had to satisfy myself with a message he’d left me on my cell phone voice amil. Again and again I played the message - "Lex, it’s your dad."
You can imagine my devastation the day the message was inadvertently erased. I’d trade just about everything I have to hear his voice again.

