Not The Voice, as in the singing competition... a different voice. It has to do with TV, though. In a roundabout way. Recently Hubby was rooting around in the storage room looking for DVDs - another story - and he found a couple of boxes of old VHS tapes. Way back in the 80's when our phones were connected to the wall and cameras had little strips of plastic inside called film, there was the magic of VHS. It went like this. You inserted a VHS tape about the size of a flat Kleenex box into a contraption roughly the size of a Ford Pinto and hefted it up on your shoulder like a boombox. I'll pause here for those who may need to look up a few words. Then you proceeded to follow your kids around hoping to catch them doing something cute. Note: they almost always did cute things. You usually only did this for special occasions like birthdays and Christmas - but my Daddy would sometimes make random videos of the kids playing when they were real little. And so, our boys have been captured jumping in puddles, hitting a golf ball, playing in the tree fort. Actually Daddy started making home movies way before VHS even. He had a little 8mm camera and I have all the reels somewhere - in another box in the storage room I imagine. Guess I need to dig those out one of these days and see if they are still intact.
Anyway, in addition to finding the box of VHS tapes, Hubs found the VHS player - I know, a miracle - and so he hooked it up and we started popping in tapes. Some of the kiddos were here so we all gathered around to see the wonder of little league baseball and riding a homemade dolly down the neighbor's steep driveway (what were we thinking?). We were all laughing and then it happened. I heard my Mama's voice. It had been over 20 years since I heard her voice and there she was on the video, talking to my little boys. Not gonna lie, there were tears. Sweet tears. Sweet memories.
That old box of tapes held a lot more memories - we spent several hours in the coming days watching and remembering. And, wonder of wonders, somewhere along the way Daddy had those 8mm movies captured on a VHS. Young versions of Mama and Daddy, me as a baby, my big brother, aunts and uncles, cousins, friends - all parading in jumpy succession. What a treasure. I need to have the tapes digitized so the next generation can have those images. And voices.
Funny thing, after 20 plus years, I still recognize my Mama's voice. Even more amazing - her voice comes out of me once in a while - the phrases she used, the sounds she made with my babies I repeat with my grandbabies. It probably happens more often than I catch. I hope so anyway.
There's another Voice I've only heard in my heart. A still small one. One that's been with me since day one. Gone on ahead, like Mama and Daddy and so many others. Calling me forward. Reminding me of who I am - Who I come from. I know that voice, too. Maybe it comes out of me once in a while - in phrases and sounds - as I follow along. Leaving traces behind for those who might be listening. I hope so anyway.
Happy Mothers' Day, Mama. I'm doing the best I can. Selah.
After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them,
and they follow him because they know his voice. John 10:4
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