Sorry We Missed Your Call

      I was on the other side of the office when James got the call that Elinore had been injured in a car accident. James rushed away immediately to meet the ambulance on its way to the hospital where the extent of her injuries could be determined but Elinore did not make it there. She  died enroute shortly after James had received the call. Her last words to the ambulance personnel were that they find the number on her phone and call James to let him know.

    Before I continue I need to fill you in on the relationship between James and Elinore prior to the tragic occurrence on that day, First, a few thoughts on the subject of love though, because I feel it will help you understand the extent of the loss beyond the mere fact that a life was lost. I think in many ways one could say that actually two lives were lost that day, for as the saying goes  James and Elinore were "all in " for one another. Now, I knew James before he ever met Elinore and its safe to say he was never what most people would call "a romantic".  In fact I would say he seemed uninterested in fostering any intimate relationship other than friendship at work. Before Elinore I guess I would claim status at best friend and that is why I write this now,

    As I said James wasn't born a romantic but he became one at age 27 when he looked into the eyes of one Elinore Hart and ,from that moment on, they each became enamored with one another at a level I would call unhealthy in hindsight, Let me explain. When love comes to you all things are wonderful in spite of the mundane existence of others and all other things appear insignificant in comparison. The euphoria of being in love supercedes all else but under normal circumstances it eventually decreases to a level that allows for resumption of one's daily routine.

    If I may assert a minor personal observation, there is a down side to it all that we learn early on.  With love comes weakness, vulnerability to the possibility of pain. Love can save you or it can annihilate you sapping any strength you thought you ever had, crushing any joy you ever felt before.  And the funny thing is, love is never a choice. It is a command of the heart that can descend upon you like a gentle morning mist of dew quite unaware. A book written by another friend of mine compares love to a poison with no antidote in most cases. Perhaps a little overstated but I think it applies here. 

    James was a zombie now or he was until he disappeared not long after Elinore died. He was not a zombie in the literal sense but figuratively speaking since the love of his life was gone. He was suffering from something far worse than a bite from the undead. It was heartbreak that produced the rudderless, shuffling individual that I saw near the end. He had disconnected from virtually everything else in his life mourning for Elinore. As I said too heavily invested. I feared that he was becoming suicidal but something happened that slightly took the edge off his despair. It is the reason I am taking the time to relay this story to you now.

   James was given possession of Elinore's personal affects from the hospital. Basically just the things that were in her car at the time of the accident, her purse and her phone. He quickly realized that her phone contained the sound of her voice on the recorded message for voice mail. It was a small comfort but a comfort nonetheless that he initiated frequently to experience the closeness he felt with her in life.  It was a simple message but a powerful proxy in the  absence of its owner. Hi this Elinore , Sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name and number and I'll return your call as soon as possible. And that was it, the standard message. Nothing more, .nothing less. Unbeknownst to me at the time, James would call the number over and over and over again numerous times a day as a ritual that provided him the consolation that he so desperately needed... that made him believe that Elinore was still with him.  Eventually James opened up to me about the fact that he was "speaking to her" in this way and I made the casual comment that it was good to have that small recording to remember her by and James agreed at first, but then days later made an excited declaration in private to me that Elinore was responding to his calls. I made a point to diplomatically take him aside and as gently as possible remind him that we both had attended Elinore's funeral mere weeks  before and that as much as we missed her, she was never coming back. I encouraged him to try to move forward.

    The following week James arrived at work from the weekend happier than he had been since Elinore's passing and I silently congratulated myself for having given him sound advice but later in the day James again made his assertion  that Elinore was indeed communicating with him telling him that she missed him terribly and wanted them to be together once again. At that point I must confess that I lost my composure and felt that I owed him the harsh truth. "Give me the phone James!", I demanded. "Somebody needs to set you straight. Give me her phone and let me hear for myself." James looked at me with a wounded glance and produced the phone without any resistance. "It isn't her phone you need, it's mine." he explained. "Hers has a passcode that I don't know."   I took the phone and found the number and called and waited for the message to play. The words I heard were unexpected.  James, is that you? I'm so lonely without you. I miss you so. If only we could be together again. I closed my eyes for a moment as I processed what I had just heard. "You see? I'm not crazy. I told you." he insisted.  "This is not possible James." I replied, handing back his phone. "Somebody is playing some sick game with you. I don't know how but its the only thing that makes any sense." I said those words but even so I couldn't really believe them myself. How could it be done?

      James left the office that day vowing to everyone that he would find a way to be with her once again. It didn't surprise me really,  after all, when it came to matters between those two, they were always "all in."  None of us ever saw James  after that. We were fearful that he had taken his own life in some misguided attempt to reunite with his beloved Elinore. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that I passed by the desk where James had worked and I suddenly and intuitively felt the need to search his desk for any evidence or clue as to what James had planned. I opened the center drawer and immediately found the two phones belonging to James and Elinore. I again felt compelled to suspect the worst and that James had done the one thing that in his tortured mind would bring them together. As I pondered his fate holding his phone in my hand I decided to call Elinore's number to listen to what she now had to say to anyone who called. As the message began to play a chill came over me as I listened to the voices of James and Elinore together laughing in a playful tone as if the caller had interrupted a romantic intimate moment between the two as they traded off different portions of the message with one another. And the message played on...Hi this is Elinore...and this James. We can't come to the phone right now. Sorry we missed your call. We may never return your call so just be happy for us.

    Love is a funny thing and the older I get the less I think I know about it. I've thought about it ...about whether its possible to love someone too much. After all that happened, I'm uncertain what the answer is. One thing I do know is that iphones are remarkable devices but even they need a battery charge and a data plan to keep going. With that in mind I contacted the provider for Elinore's phone and assured them that I wanted to keep her phone in service. I told them that I didn't need the passcode for access and that I had no desire to change anything on it. I mean really...why would I?