Here’s a transcription of a message left on my work voicemail by my grandmother in Mississippi at 7:30 last night. I heard it first thing this morning. Note that it should be read in a genteel Delta accent:
Maud, this is Grandma.
I just wanted to hear your sweet voice and I have heard it. [Pause, fumbling noises.]
So, just know I’m — we’re — thinking about you and just hope everything is all right with you and Max. And we love you and we were wondering if y’all were going to try to work out anything about coming. [Another pause. The sound of my grandfather’s breathing on the line.]
We sure would like to see you but we know it would be a hard trip for you. But just let us know if you think you’re able to come.
I’m still — well, I’m not back to par, you know. [Voice quavers.]
So I don’t know whether y’all would enjoy it too much but we would love for y’all to come if you feel like you can. [Voice grows still more tremulous.]
Take care of your sweet self, and give Max our love and you too. Grandma.