Lost phone: Incommunicado for 2 days

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by Annette Kurman


I am known for leaving devices and pocketbooks all over the place, especially at home, but also in restaurants and other venues. Fortunately, they had all been recovered without anyone stealing my identity or the few dollar bills in my handbag that are stuffed in there.

Unfortunately, last Friday, after packing up at work for home, I neglected to see my phone that evidently had fallen on the floor out of my immediate vision. 

After being at home for a couple hours, I had taken out the Kindle from my work bag but couldn’t find my phone. Checked the car, the car floor, and other places it could be hidden.

So, I checked the “Find My Phone” app on my computer and found, to my dismay, my phone was still in Goffstown. Well, it was still Friday; I could pick it up on Saturday.

When my husband came home Friday, I delicately explained the situation. I got the “talk” (again) about the importance of having your phone with you, especially since we had just given up our landline. 

On Saturday morning it dawned on me that because I worked in an educational institution, and even though I had a key fob that opens the locked door for me to enter during school days, if I used it when the school was locked for the weekend, six police cars would surround me within minutes. 

But wait! I could call them and explain my situation. But wait! I had no phone to call anyone! I couldn’t call my daughter who often stopped by Sunday mornings, that even though I wouldn’t answer my phone, I was still alive and would love to see her. Went from calling to emailing her (she who does not read email on a regular basis).

And my phone’s camera. Of course, this was the weekend I had decided to sell two dozen pieces from my music box collection. Without a single photo, I drafted each item’s eBay listing, waiting for my phone’s return to complete the listings.

It’s funny. Even though I rarely call anyone, that weekend I wanted to call everyone. But I couldn’t. I missed my phone. What would’ve happened if, when my husband was at work on Saturday, I had fallen and couldn’t get up?  I wouldn’t have been able to crawl to my phone. I was incommunicado. Valuable lesson learned. My husband will be proud.

About this Author

Annette Kurman

A native of Philadelphia with baccalaureate degrees in journalism, nursing, as well as an MBA from now defunct Daniel Webster College, Nashua, her endeavors in various roles and industries — as well a very supportive husband — once again bring her to the question of “What do I want to do when I grow up?”