How Voxer killed the Recluse! 

     
I’m an orphan. I’m a 46- year-young orphan as of less than a month ago. I’m still adjusting to the silence of voices I’ve come to hear in my sleep and in my  head. I’m not sure which direction my life will take, but I know one thing: I’m not alone. 

It’s a basic tenant of life to feel like you’re the only one going through this or that. You’re sure no one else can understand the pain and loss of death, but it’s a lie. As with life so is death. As with death so comes new life. Well, I’m dying today. Figuratively, don’t worry or start calling the crisis line. I’m simply dying in order to be reborn. I’m the pheonix coming out of the ashes. 

I’ve been told melodrama is my brand, and I’ll wear it. Rebirth for me means letting go of the old insecurities. It means crawling out of myself and letting other people in. My parents were exemplary. They cushioned each fall and held my hand tight so tight that I never became lost for long. But the security blanket has been pulled at the plug. Only a cold remnant of a blanket is left. It covers my legs without warmth, but they linger in the fabric. 

The death of my beloved daddy came swiftly and without mercy. My voxer groups were witness to the confusion and madness. Educators that I’ve never seen face to face lifted me up. They caught hold of my toe as I drifted close to edge of the abyss. 

See, these lovely voices in my phone have seen me disappear in the grief of my mother at the beginning of 2015. They cast my net without apology. What if I don’t want to be caught? What if my grief is embarrassingly public like a huge elephant painted pink with toenails the size of small cities? They were determined. I had no choice but to submit. 

My first instinct was to go back inside myself. Being a recluse is comfortable. It requires no attachments, no commitments, and no explanation. This; however did not come  to fruition. 

As I made the ride home from daddy’s funeral, every bone in my body felt like fire. The front door to the house I shared with my parents for five years would stay closed until I entered. No greeting would reach out to pull me in. I cringed. I wavered, but then as I reached for the handle, a package came into view. Being the Amazon Prime addict, I didn’t flinch. I most likely ordered something during a bout of insomnia. Or did I? Opening the package, I found a card inside. My dear friends from Voxer had cushioned my homecoming. I smiled, I wept, I laughed, I lived. Nothing could be sweeter or more impactful. Crockpot meals were collected and offered as nourishment. They were not just voices in my phone. They were flesh and blood warriors of my tribe. My defenders, my people: Gratitude. 

As Christmas winded itself around my vision, the time to return home was once again filling me with trepidation. A coworker/voxer bud of mine had told me a voxer friend from Virginia wanted to visit and hangout. I dismissed this since I was sure nobody would actually want to hang out with me in real time. The time was nearing close, and it was true. It materialized like a chocolate fudge cake that had baked itself and was offered up for my consumption. My heart was overfilled once again. My recluse status took a dive and lost a bit of air along the way. 

I think it’s natural for introverts to love voxer. Most people don’t understand I’m an introvert since I do social scenes well. They just suck my breath. I’m on hard, and I crash hard. I’m not one to take you up on a social offer. I’m fine by myself. Thank you very much. But I’m not. I’m not fine. 

Grief has been a bitch of a teacher. I don’t know how else to put it. My voxer peeps have been my saving grace. I literally can’t be alone right now, and it’s shocking. I don’t have to be. Thank you to the voices in my phone. I love you. 

I know this blog post is long, but I feel inspired and grateful. I’ve always believed voxer makes me a better teacher, but now I’m left thinking it might make me a better person! 

I wish you all a Happy New Year. May you always be at invox zero!! 

Dedicated to my tribe: @edu_match/#G5Frenzy! @drroberts @sarahdateechur @Carr_8 @JRose_Edu @TG_Neil @TheEdsaneT @lars3eb @ScheiderJustin @Thrasymachus @Melsa77 @teambond @RPiersobEdu @DougTimm34

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Published by: SoloShell

I'm an elementary teacher who delights in beating the school-year stress by traveling Texas on a budget. Join me in budget-friendly journeys as I give tips and tricks to finding the best B&Bs for the money!

Categories Education4 Comments

4 thoughts on “How Voxer killed the Recluse! ”

  1. I remember how long it took you to get back on social media after your mom died. We worried about you and missed you. The day your dad died you left a voxer message that was the most anguishing message I had ever listened to. It was then that I realized that authentic genuine connections were forged. You are an incredible woman Shelly Stout and I am so happy you are a part of my personal learning network.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hey Shelly, Your outlook on life is something to be replicated by others. I know you have been through some stuff and you know Tammy will be there for you! Don’t count on me! Haha. Totally kidding, I know you get the joke… That is why you are awesome!

    Liked by 2 people

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