Being at work, knowing that soon it will not be my work anymore. Already I am not doing my job, as I am only contracted to do the filing. I feel a bit distant. I go down the hall, expecting to hear a certain person's voice on the phone...she is not there. I leave for the day and I look at the corner office, expecting to see another co-worker still working in her office. One whole section of our office is empty. It is eerie.
I have been at this company for 10 years. I have saved voice mail messages throughout the years. I have the first phone message I ever got from my son. He was 4years old and he was talking to me about Spongebob. He sounds so small. He hesitates, and stammers out about a new Spongebob computer game that he has started playing. His voice with a South Boston accent from his daycare providers. I have my husband talking about an incident during Michael's first grade...the high school was being built, and there was a gas leak, so the fire trucks were out and the school was waiting for the all clear to let the kids go in. He talks about how the kids were going up to the first grade teacher saying that they don't want to be at school. I have a voice mail from my brother when he had just moved up here and was trying to be cheerful despite his heart just being broken from a divorce.
All these messages that I saved throughout the years will be deleted. This morning, I brought my video camera in and I videotaped the phone and played the voice mail messages. I videotaped my working space...my pictures of my husband and I before the kids, our chinchillas, various Michael pictures and drawings that he has made when he has come into work with me and the new pictures of Willow.
Soon I will be gone and all that will be left will be echos.