After my mom passed away, everything felt heavy and strange.

The house was quieter, my heart was aching, and even simple daily routines felt like climbing a mountain.

A couple of weeks later, as if life hadn’t already been complicated enough, my phone completely died.

I felt cut off from everyone and everything, and I didn’t have the energy to go out and buy a new one.

My dad, seeing how stressed I was, handed me my mom’s old phone.

“It still works,” he said softly. “Maybe this can help until you get a new one.”I switched out the

SIM card, hooked it up with my number, and started using it. It felt strange at first —

holding something that had belonged to her — but at the time, it was just a practical solution. I never expected anything more.

About two weeks later, I got a notification for a voicemail. I didn’t think much of it.

Probably a message from work or a friend checking in, I thought. But when I hit play,

I froze.It was my mom’s voice.Her familiar tone filled the room, warm and comforting.

She sounded calm and loving, like she always did. She was reminding me to take care of myself,

to slow down and breathe when life felt overwhelming, and to never forget how much she loved me.

I sat there completely still, tears streaming down my face.

Somehow, that old voicemail had been sitting on the phone, waiting for me to hear it —

like a small gift from her, delivered exactly when I needed it most.It wasn’t just a message.

It felt like she was right there with me, letting me know that even though she’s gone

, her love will always be part of my life.

That one voicemail became a treasure, something I can return to whenever I need comfort

.In that moment, I realized that sometimes the smallest things — a voice, a memory, a few kind words — can remind us that love never truly leaves.