By Kyle Roberts
“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” Winnie the Pooh/A.A. Milne
Back in 2011, I had worked as an in-home family therapist for a non-profit in Monroe after getting my master’s degree in counseling and guidance.
The work was beyond fulfilling. I would work with families from four to six months at a time, being invited into their homes to see their interactions and dynamics in real time. I have been forever changed thanks to my time doing the work.
At the time, Google had launched the perfect app for someone in my line of work: Google Voice, giving me a new phone number that was strictly for work purposes that worked on my own cell phone.
I used the app for nearly three years, keeping work and personal calls separate before taking a new job within the agency and shutting down the app.
Fast forward a decade, and when I started full-time as co-publisher of the LPJ, I decided to download Google Voice again. It turns out, my Google account is forever linked into the cloud-o-sphere that is online data. Meaning when I reactivated my phone, it picked up as if it were 2011 all over again despite being dormant that entire time.
And there was an incredible shock when I saw the red notification label on my voicemails: dozens of old voicemails had been saved to my account. These are voicemails I had not heard in well over a decade, including a few that were from loved ones that have since passed away in the time that I had deleted the app.
My aunt Roxanne – gone in 2022 – just telling me she loved me and wanted to know if I could come fix Papaw’s TV.
My former pastor Dr. Rick Byargeon – gone in 2013 – literally just saying “Hey, it’s Rick. Call me back.”
My father-in-law Wayne – gone in 2016 – “Hey man, I love you, don’t rush to call back.”
My mother – gone in 2023 – “I don’t remember why I called. Love you.”
Nostalgia that’s frozen in time, but also a click away on an app.
I teach digital marketing at Louisiana Tech on an adjunct basis. And a huge part of the curriculum is getting the students to understand just how much technology has evolved and changed the world in the process. I talk about the ills of social media, the loss of true connection when you had to call someone’s house to ask their parents if they were home, and the time when I would ride my bike into the neighborhood woods while avoiding dinosaurs along the way (okay, that last part is a bit of a stretch).
The world in 2025 is vastly different from 1995, and admittedly, it can feel a lot worse because of the way technology has changed us. It feels like things move way too fast. Once we’ve learned how to manage our time on the Internet, social media comes and steals our attention. And once we’ve figured out how to properly manage that, A.I. will come to make servants of us all into a dystopian future.
But when I pull up the Google Voice app and listen to the voicemails, I have precious treasures — the literally voices of loved ones that I can share with my children and, hopefully, theirs too.
It’s a reminder, too, that everything isn’t all bad if you know where to look, or listen in my case here. Time’s arrow marches forever forward, but I’m glad that Google Voice gives me the brief chance to take an offramp and reconnect with some that have gone on.
