Based on 117 community votes, the most popular answer to “The Voicemail My Son Never Heard” is “Call and show up at his door” — chosen by 42% of voters.
Category: heartwarming • Theme: 📬 Unspoken Words
I start with the voicemail. Fifteen seconds. Me asking him what he wants for dinner, telling him I’ll grab it after work, saying I’ll call back. I think there was a game on in the background. I was busy. I didn’t call back that night. Now. I’m in my sister’s driveway, the car still running, listening to that same message on speaker. Four years old. One hundred and twelve plays. The little robot voice still says, “Saved message,” like it’s nothing. Then. Six years, every visiting day without exception, my son sat on the curb in the parking lot of the correctional facility. He was ten when it started; I remember his shoelaces were two different colors that first day. He told his friends I was working construction out of state. Now again. I’m out. I’ve been out for a few months, I think. Time feels rubbery. He’s fifteen, taller than me, and won’t answer my calls. My sister says he’s “doing okay” and that I should give him time. I keep picturing him on that curb, eating the vending machine pretzels he never mentioned, just waiting. Me on the other side of the fence, pretending I wasn’t counting his steps. Tonight I parked outside his mom’s house and just sat there, engine idling, watching the porch light. My thumb hovers over his name, over that old voicemail, and I don’t know which one I’m supposed to press. I really don’t know. What would YOU do?
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