Nonfiction by Stephanie Shafran
[Trigger warning: contains reference to suicide]
Hello children, this is Daddy. Have you been good children while I’ve been away? I hope so. I just got off the big airplane after flying in the sky, all the way from Florida to New York. First the plane climbed up and up into the clouds and after a while it straightened out and zoomed along faster than you can imagine. Then it dropped slowly down and down until safely landing and letting all the passengers climb down a ladder and walk into the airport. That’s where I am right now, and I miss you both so much. I’m coming home tomorrow and can’t wait to hug and kiss you hello.
Muted for sixty years, your voice comes alive for the first time tonight, on this self-recorded “Voice-o-graph.” No gift could ever top this one.
You recorded this message at the airport, on your way back home from a business trip in Florida. Were you homesick? In the middle of the small record, a label, in your handwriting, reads: 11-16-54, New York arr from Melbourne Beach Florida, To Stephy & Lee.
I’d have my fourth birthday in a month. Lee had recently turned seven.
You’d end your life just six and a half years later.
Stephanie Shafran retired from a long career as Spanish teacher and school counselor. Her writing has appeared in journals such as Earth’s Daughters, Slant, Persimmon Tree, The Bluebird Word, and The Sun; in anthologies such as Ophelia’s Mom, by Nina Shandler, Ed.D. Stephanie published a chapbook Awakening in 2020.
