-That's Buddy Glass in J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey, explaining why he won't cancel the phone number he and his dead brother, Seymour, shared when they lived at home together.
I totally get it. It's hard to think that someone that is permanently imprinted in your cells and your psyche has disappeared. It's nice to have a tangible reminder that they existed. Which is why I've found it interesting, in an odd sort of way, to google my brother's name and discover that, more than twenty years after his death, he has a web presence.
On a similar note, my therapist died a year ago, and I can't bring myself to delete her phone number from my cell phone. For a few months, out of curiousity, I actually called it, to see if her machine would still pick up. After about nine months, the voice on the machine changed to someone else's. I knew exactly why her family had let it go so long, though.
My brother exists, if only in cyberspace. Ted never got to see the internet, but he would have loved it.
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