Grief recovery, loss of child, healing after death & loss 

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Michelle Shelton 480-577-8272
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Phil’s phone

When Phil died, I sat on my patio and called his phone and played his voicemail over and over with a couple of glasses of wine. It was raining. He loved the rain. I recorded it and still listen to it over and over. Not like that first night though.

I used to tell him to leave me a message when he called. I didn't know why I felt so compelled to have him leave me a message. He wouldn't do it. I don't know why. He said I will just call you back if you don't answer your phone. 

I have found that I was going through my life waiting for all the big events to happen. Graduations. Weddings. College. New jobs. Babies being born.

Broken HeartIn reality, it is the little moments that create my life. Like the John Lennon song says, life is what happens when we are busy making other plans. Now hearing his voice on his voicemail is all I have. I have a few little video blurbs. Some photos and my memories. I have his shoes and a few trinkets. He was 22 and didn't have much stuff.

I am afraid if I stop talking about him and hearing his voice I will forget. Part of me wants to forget so I won't hurt anymore. Yet, if I forget it will be like he was never here.

It is such an odd process. I have buried my dad. I have buried my mom. I have buried my best friend. I have buried other friends throughout the years. I am not supposed to have to plan my child's funeral. What about the graduations and babies and new jobs? What about college?

I will do what I do and trust the process. I don't like it. I don't want to even be part of the process…yet, I think there is a higher purpose. I suppose it is to help someone else. I like to do that. I seem to have so many life experiences. I will sit down and tell you about it someday. I can relate to almost anyone I meet. Seriously. I suppose this will be another thing I can relate to that others can't.

I sure wish I could have had Phil's phone but it was burnt up in the fire. The phone company won't give me his text messages. Was he in the middle of a text? Is that why he wrecked? I guess I will never know. It doesn't really matter. As long as I taped his voice….that is what matters.

I love you Phil Henry…I love you and I hope you are somewhere wonderful….learning and growing and moving on. I love your voice. I miss you very much.


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