48 Hours Without Cassie

First, I had to survive 24 hours without my phone.  Then, I had to survive 48 hours without Cassie!  She left Friday afternoon for a two-day church retreat.  We had been preparing for this since August.  We made sure she had hiking boots, got a new winter jacket, dug out all her long-sleeved shirts.  But, I just wasn't ready for her to be gone this long!

Cassie had reluctantly gone on this trip last year.  That was the first time that she had been away from us for more than an overnight and she was worried.  This year was different.  She was thrilled to be going.  It's not that she was thrilled to be away from us. But, she wasn't sad or nervous about leaving us.

The day before the trip, the pastor called to give us the landline number to the retreat site, reminding us that there was very limited cell coverage.  Oh yes, I recalled that we wouldn't be able to communicate with Cassie while they were up in the mountains. 

That evening, we dug around the attic trying to find a suitable duffel bag.  Cassie didn't want to be laughed at for bringing too much.  But, on the other hand, she didn't want to look suspect if she didn't bring enough.  We didn't want someone to think that she might be wearing the same jeans two days in a row!

We stood in the church parking lot waiting for the kids to get in the vans and said our goodbyes.  Cassie came back and hugged me a second time.  I tried not to be overly emotional.  I looked at it as strength training for when I leave her in a college dorm a few years from now.  We waved goodbye and realized we had the rest of the evening in front of us.  Well, we couldn't exactly drop Lacey at home and go out for a romantic dinner.  So, we went out for pizza.  I kept my phone on the table, just in case Cassie texted during the two-hour drive.

Back at home, we settled down with the TV.  I took advantage of Cassie's absence to work on a Christmas present for her.  I kept my phone nearby, in case she texted.  I even slept with my phone next to me, in case there was some kind of emergency.  What if the heat didn't work in their cabin?  Would she remember my earlier advice about how a person loses so much heat through their extremities and remember to put her hat on?  Had she remembered to pack a hat?

Saturday morning I got up early, made sure that the stray cat Cassie's caring for was fed, and went to yoga class.  During meditation, all I could think about was how I might convince Cassie to go to college locally.  After class, I decided to go straight to the supermarket.  Without the kids along,  I got my shopping done in record time.  I did feel guilty that I had forgotten my recyclable bags.  Cassie would have never let me forget.  Meanwhile, Les and Lacey made their weekly supply run to the pet store.  They also got through in record time.  Did Cassie really slow us down or are these shopping trips just less interesting without her?

Les and I went down to the basement and talked about renovating it.  Cassie is so social now.  Maybe if we fixed up the basement, Cassie and her friends would want to hang out at our house. 

I cleaned the kitchen while Lacey moped around her bedroom.  Then I heard a strange thumping noise and saw her dragging a basket of laundry down the steps.  She explained that she wanted to surprise Cassie by getting the laundry done.  We got a load going and I asked her if she'd like to go to the mall.  Lacey needed some new clothes, including a warm jacket and a Christmas dress.  Lacey wasn't sure we'd be able to make good choices without Cassie.  "Are you kidding?" I asked her.  "Who do you think taught Cassie how to shop?"

Lacey and I had a great time.  We went to Pentagon City and had lunch out.   I was even able to get her to try on two items of clothing!  We sent Cassie a picture of Lacey in the mall but couldn't tell if she received it.  Back at home, Lacey decided that she was going to leave everything we got in the bag so that she could show it all to Cassie.

I still hadn't heard from Cassie and worried that maybe she was outside freezing on a hike or sitting in a dining hall being forced to eat food that she considers unhealthy.  Suddenly, her text tone sounded.  I grabbed my phone and read, "Wish I was shopping."  I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief.  Even though she said she wished she was shopping, she wouldn't be shopping alone.  She did miss us!   
  
Now, it's Sunday morning and I'm up early, counting the hours until I go sit in the parking lot, waiting for the vans to arrive safely.  How will I ever let her go off to college?  But, the truth is that once Cassie gets home I won't have time to worry about this.  She will have photos to show us, homework to finish, her violin to practice and Lacey's clothes to admire.  And, I will recognize more than ever how precious all this time is.

Lacey sporting her new jacket.  Yes, she's a "Style Evolution in Progress!"

A Day Without a Phone

I recently survived 24 hours without my cell phone.  Here's what happened.  I got home from work,  walked into the kitchen and plugged in my phone.  My phone did not buzz and the screen did not light up to tell me that it was charging.  I pressed the power button.  No response.  I tried again and again.  Still no response.  I hollered for Cassie to come.  She advised that my phone appeared to be dead.

I began further diagnostic steps.  First, I plugged my phone into my computer.  My computer couldn't even recognize the poor bugger as a device.  Next, I took my lifeless phone out to the car and tried to activate Bluetooth from my car radio.  My radio display spewed the message, "No device available."

"No,"  I wailed.  Denial, the first stage of grief was setting in. This was immediately followed by a wave of isolation.

Les suggested that I take it to the AT&T store for a possible diagnosis.  Cassie went along for moral support.  Of course, the store was closed for the evening.

Cassie said that she was sorry, but that this situation was kind of like a person's heart.  She gently explained that sometimes, when a person's heart gets out of rhythm, doctors can stop the heart and then start it again.  But, according to Cassie, this wasn't the situation with my phone because it had stopped by itself.

Realizing that I would be without a phone for the next 24 hours, I sent up a warning flare on Facebook.

The reality of my loss overwhelmed me as I entered the second stage of grieving - anger.  How could my phone do this to me? 

How was I going to wake up on time without my phone alarm?  How would I know what to wear to work if I couldn't check the weather?  What if one of the kids' teachers needed to contact me during the day?  Les is not allowed to take a cell phone into his office.  And, for some reason, he's never able to answer his work phone.  My mind was really racing.  What if one of the girls got hurt and the school nurse couldn't reach me?  How was Cassie going to contact me to let me know she was up in the morning? 

Thus, I entered the third stage of grief - bargaining.  I convinced Les to set an alarm on his cell phone.  I told Cassie that she wouldn't be able to contact me in the morning.  I would call her from a land line once I got to work.   Les suggested I start researching phones so that I was prepared to buy a new one. 

The next morning the alarm on Les' phone woke me up, even though he had left his phone down in the family room.  As I left for work, I dropped my phone into my purse, just in case it decided to start working.  Without my phone, I was forced to listen to the radio as I drove.  I called Cassie after I got to work and reminded her that she wouldn't be able to text me when school was over.

I didn't miss my phone until lunchtime.  Depression, the next stage of grieving set in as I searched the Internet.  The prices that I'd seen listed for the iPhone 6 were actually the monthly service costs, not the cost of the phone.  Then I realized that Cassie's phone was about the same age as mine.  What if hers died too?  We'd have to buy two new phones.  That would really increase our monthly phone bill.

Acceptance, the final stage of grief, arrived as I was walking to my car.  I took my phone from my purse and stroked it gently.  There was a brief flicker on the screen and suddenly, my phone sprang back to life!  I shouted joyously across the parking garage to one of my colleagues.

I sent a text to Cassie, letting her know that my phone was back.  Immediately, my phone chirped and an emoji blowing a kiss filled the screen.  Yes, my phone was back.

As I neared home, the robot ringtone sounded.

"Hello, Lacey," I answered.

"Hi, Mommy.  I'm home," she said.

"My phone's working!" I told her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, how do you think you called me?" I replied.

"Oh, yeah," she said.  "Well, I'm going to hang up now.  See you soon."

"See you soon," I answered.

I could survive without my phone alarm, without the weather app and without being able to check email day and night.  But, I love my phone because it lets me know that my girls are okay.  When my phone gives out for good, I will replace it.  And, when that new phone dies, I will pay to replace it with whatever the latest technology might be.  Staying in touch with my kids is priceless.