She called me 217 times before she died, but I didn't answer any of them.
Three days later, I saw her cell phone at the funeral home - 217 missed calls, all to her "brother."
She left me a scheduled text message, a white shirt two sizes too big, an unfinished scarf, and a diary filled with 101 apologies.
"Being older is like having someone holding you," she said.
She said: "Brother, you have the most beautiful smile."
She said, "Let's talk tomorrow."
But there is no tomorrow for her.
I put on her shirt, learned to knit her scarf, and sat in the empty chair she drew. I thought I was living for her, but later I discovered that it was she who weaved the rest of my life with those phone calls I didn't answer.
This is a story about loss and redemption. A brother spent his whole life answering those 217 phone calls.
If you have ever missed someone's "I'll talk to you tomorrow", this book will make you cry and laugh. Because there is some waiting, although it is late, you will eventually wait.
