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  • Writer's picturedonnafrasca

The House Of Magic

In 2022, when my 95-year-old dad was living with me, I recorded many voice memos of our very unique conversations. As per the heads-up my angels gave me, I knew he would only live with me for two years at the most; since he was 95, this was not a peculiar assumption. 

Last Mother's Day, I felt a little blue, and no wonder, given all that has passed. I randomly picked up my phone and started nosing around; I looked at photos, emails, posts, and stocks and then decided to look at my voice memos. 

I didn't have many, maybe five at the most, but they all happened to be voice memos of my dad telling a story or answering a question I had asked him. I love that I was intuitive enough to make these voice memos; there's nothing like hearing the voice of someone whose voice you'll never hear again.

One of the recordings was an eight-second response to my dad. 

"Dad, how do you say, "House of Magic" in Lithuanian?"

Without hesitation, he replied. "Magus Gastamas."

I am 100% sure I didn't spell that correctly, but I'm in the phonetic ballpark.

There were at least two handfuls of times, if not more, when unusual things happened in my house, always with my dad present. We had an unique energy together, like magical powerhouses combining energy to manifest the good things in life.

As time passes, I cherish these memories, but most of all, I'm grateful I heard his voice again, in my house of magic.


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