My mobile phone rang today
I answered
“Could I speak to Mottsu?” someone said
“No” was all I said
Someone introduced himself, from a vineyard in the Hunter Valley
A marketing call
“Mottsu died about 6 years ago” I said
“I am so sorry” someone said
“Thanks, you couldn’t have known” I said and then explained that Mottsu didn’t have a mobile phone and I could easily that we had signed mailing list with his name and my number – we had holidayed in the Hunter a year before he died.
More apologies, more consternation and more reassurances and we hung up.
I felt dull. The whole sequence was quite surreal and I couldn’t help remembering the time I had been shaken by the realisation he wouldn’t call me. I hadn’t imagined someone would call him.
Weird (especially given my musings in the previous post on remembering).
Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t. Mark Twain
Although this is not quite the same–this entry reminds me of receiving an email a few weeks ago from an old boy friend who killed himself two years ago. The message contained a link to a website with a name that suggested porn. I was too squeamish to click it.
A message generated by some sort of spam machine, no doubt. Some kind of virus.
A ghost.
Unsettling.
Hello dear friend
What a similar experience, and readily explained in a rational way, mine was a blip on the emotional emotional landscape too.
You sum it up perfectly – with a single word “unsettling”
Thanks for writing
With love
Anne