Find My Phone

 

This is the kind of thing that happens when you get old:

 

            It was Kim’s phone, actually, that got lost. This happens fairly often, largely because her clothes typically don’t have any pockets, and as she moves around our house, going from floor to floor, it sometimes gets left behind. When we leave home, she has her phone in her purse – no problem finding it.

 

            When it’s lost in our home, it’s usually no big deal. We check the likely places (kitchen counter, table on the porch, next to her computer, table by the couch, art room, laundry room counter where she recharges). And if that doesn’t work, I call her on my phone and the ringing leads us to hers.

 

            But last week was different. We had stayed up until almost midnight, and I had just gotten into bed when Kim announced that she could not find her phone. None of our usual phone-finding methods worked. We included a pat-down of the pockets of any clothes we had worn that day and the day before. When I call her number with no response, it usually means either 1) she left it in the car, or 2) the battery died. So, I put on some pants over my pajamas and ventured out into the night air to the garage. Not there. So, we spent about an hour going from room to room, looking between and under the couch pillows, in the bathroom next to the toilet. Nada. I went out and checked the car again. Nope. I recalled that I have a tendency to put things away in the wrong place – especially when I am drying dishes – so I checked every kitchen drawer and every shelf in the pantry.

 

            We then tried to remember the last time we had seen or used the phone. We had taken a brief walk on the beach that afternoon, and we were sure she did not have it then. Kim recalled asking me to carry her phone, but I’m not sure when she asked me – my memory of the asking was not clear. That day, after going to the beach we had gone to a garden center, and we paid for the plants with Kim’s credit card – which she usually carries tucked into her phone case, but she had given her card to me because SHE KNEW SHE WOULD NOT HAVE HER PHONE WITH HER! (Confused? Think how we felt!) She also remembered that she had shown me a photo she had taken the day before – a robin that had built her nest in a bike basket on the porch outside our condo. We were here at the Bark House when she showed me the photo, which meant that we had not left it in the condo the day before, so we did not have to drive there to look for it.

 

            So, at some time around 2 a.m., we went to sleep – sort of. I got up once to check the tubs where we keep gloves and hats in the front hall closet.

 

            The next day we repeated most of the steps that we had tried the day before. I came back to the house after checking the car for the third time, and Kim announced “Found it!” Where? She had put it inside an old cigar box (future home of tv remotes in the condo) because she always uses the bannister when going up or down the stairs, and she wanted to carry phone and box at the same time, so she put the phone in the box, went downstairs, and promptly got busy doing something else.

 

            I was, of course, delighted. Not only did we find Kim’s phone, but it was also clearly not my fault that we lost it.

 

            I should note that I continue to look for Kim’s phone, even though it’s not lost. I catch myself glancing at the random shelf or compartment in the car, expecting, maybe, to catch a glimpse of Kim’s phone. Who knows what I might find that I didn’t even know was lost?

 

            So much fun to be old! So many adventures!