Your heart stops, sinking low into your chest as your rib cage constricts tightly around the slowed beating vessel. Panic wells up in you like a spring, filling the veins your heart has ceased to fill.
This feeling is brought on by many a situation. The death of a loved one, an untimely breakup, or in my case the drowning of my cell phone. You may be wondering why I would have such a strong reaction to such a mundane thing that happens to thousands (ok maybe not, but a lot) of people every day. I wondered the same… Why am I brought nearly to the point of panic and tears by the loss or unplanned drowning of the “finer things” in my life (seriously, two months ago the amethyst charm broke of a bracelet that was gifted to me and I nearly broke out in hives). Not to sound petty, I realize there are far greater things plaguing the world than my lost or broken items, but in the moment, as my chest begins to tighten I am no longer a grown ass adult, but my childhood self fearing the wrath of my father.
My dad is a bit of long story. He is the most wonderful man, loving, kind, and giving… on the other side of the same coin however, when I was a kid he tended to be stern, hard to please, and emotionally distant (at times), now he is a far gentler version of himself and I just love the crap out of him(he is a truly amazing man)! As a child I knew my dad loved me, but God forbid I break something or loose my latest tag along (the one item all kids MUST take with them absolutely everywhere) because I obviously did it on purpose or for attention. He would explode in anger or frustration, not being able to comprehend how such a thing could happen. I felt immense guilt over these moments and carried the weight of them with me for far too long.
And so, when I heard that hollow splash I turned and saw my phone, sinking gently to its watery grave and I was too late to save it. I scooped it up, rushing it to the kitchen, pants around my ankles, laughing and nearly crying as I beckoned Drew to pour a bowl of rice to submerge its tiny ibody in. He was laughing out right, as I stood there, t-shirt half tucked in my underwear staring at the bowl of rice in disbelief, I am not that person, I don’t drop my phone in the toilet!…BUT I DID. I blame it on faulty pant pocket construction, he says it’s because I am now that person that absent-mindedly has their phone on them at all times and though I deny it, he may not be entirely wrong.
At any rate, Drew handled the would be traumatic situation better than I could have dreamed. He calmly informed me that we should leave it over night, check it in the morning and if it was dead that we have a savings account for times such as these and its just a fact of life. My eyes welled with tears, not out of sadness, but out of thanks. He had such grace. And even though he was laughing at (maybe by this point with) me I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest.
The next day rolled around and I awoke, hoping that to find that my phone was merely playing dead, to find instead that it was indeed mostly dead (it would charge, light up, function to a point, but alas there was no real life behind its glassy surface). Drew with an excited smile said, “Want to go get a new phone?!” and I tentatively said, “Sure?” he glared at me, “Common! You know you want to! You need one anyways, the pictures will be better and it’s faster, so just think of it as the upgrade we were intending to get.”, I smiled demurely, “Ok… but what if you take the new phone and I take yours? I would be ok with that. I mean you have had your phone longer, remember? I only got the last one because I left the one before in a cab… in New York… oh man, I shouldn’t get this phone.”
An hour later we emerged from the Apple store, shiny new phone in hand, me spouting profuse amounts of thanks to my beyond amazing Mr. and smiling as we walked back to our car. As we rounded the corner for the garage Drew smiled at me and adds with a laugh, “oh yeah, I got the extra protection on this phone, so if it too decides to take a swim we will be covered.” We both had to laugh.
The point is, dear reader, that even in moments when we feel past history is bound to repeat itself. That we are destined for a life fraught with the feelings of “you did that on purpose!” in moments of struggle. Please know, that is the lie we need to run from and that people who insist on inflicting these feelings really shouldn’t be who you invest your time into. Instead look for the ones who will fill your life with love, support, hope and exceptance. So that when you run out of the bathroom, pants around your ankles, screaming like a mad person, they will laugh with you, tell you its ok, and make sure there is something to catch you next time you (or your phone) take the plunge.
xx
