The Phone Call That Never Came

I celebrated my birthday this month.  It was a wonderful day.  Full of surprises, text messages from friends, lunch with my sister Karen, and dinner with family.  But something felt off and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.  Later that evening I realized I had been unconsciously waiting for a phone call from my Father to wish me a happy day.  The phone call was never going to come.  There would not be any more phone calls from my Father on special days.  This was the first time since his death that it sunk in for me. 

Waiting for a phone call that would never come reminded me of another time.  It took me back to New Year’s Day 1973.  I was anticipating Sergei’s phone call from California telling me when he would be returning to the Washington DC area.  The last time we talked on the telephone had been on Christmas day.  Due to circumstances beyond our control, we were not able to spend the holidays together.  And I felt uneasy the entire time we were apart. 

The phone call from Sergei never came.  I was at home alone, in my apartment, that New Year’s Day when my phone rang out loudly.  It was my boss calling to tell me the devastating news of Sergei Kourdakov’s death.  My boss is the one who had introduced Sergei to me and he wanted to spare me the emotional ordeal of finding out at the office.   

It’s strange how one event always brings up memories, even so many years later.  Waiting for the phone call that would never come is heartbreaking.  About 9:30 pm, on my birthday, my younger sister Kelly called long distance. 

“Happy Birthday, Sissy.  I love you!”

It was the perfect phone call.