"Hi son it's me again. I know you must be so busy with your new job and fiancée, but I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and really hope that we can get together soon.
Call me back whenever you can. I love you." The answering machine clicked off.
I was never much of a family person since the divorce. My parents split when I was 11 and ever since then I've slowly pushed my dad out of my life.
I honestly can't remember the last time I talked to him. I know he made an effort to stay in my life, but my young grief-filled self denied that.
A year after I got that voicemail, my mom called me. She told me that my dad had a stroke and passed away that morning.
At first, I felt nothing. Then a while later it came to me. My dad called to spend time with his son, even a day, and I shut him out.
Now I understand that the man who raised me, who tucked me in at night, who helped me with my homework, who loved me... Is gone.
Why didn't I pick up the damn phone?