That is my nightmare. Now that cell phones do all of the safekeeping when it comes to digits, and contacts, that information has leaked out of my brain and maybe yours. Still it feels like thin protection when my imagination goes into overdrive. All it takes is one slender mistake. Leaving my phone on the counter when I pay. Dropping it on the pavement as I rush across the street in traffic. A splash in the water when I lean over to see the goldfish. 

 

Then I am alone. Abandoned. Hopeless. Nearly dead. 

 

Yesterday John called me when he was out shopping. But for reasons only known by the cloud my phone stalled on incoming call. I could not actually answer him. He called the land line, and I picked up but the information he wanted was in my cell phone. Which had defected.

 

I could neither turn it off, nor turn it on. Everything I knew was lost. My lesson plans for costume class. All of my job reports for the last three years. A list of quilts I have made since 2014. Every appointment, each meeting, all birthdays had evaporated. Life as I knew it was over. 

 

Then my son came downstairs. He is from a different generation, the one that never actually spun a telephone dial. He rebooted the phone, and handed it back to me. 

 

Just like that. My life could proceed as normal. 

 

There are times when we need to reboot. Get out of line, and recalibrate. A small group, a prayer, music, a walk at sunset can all help us to reconnect to one another. Then we will not need to keep the crucial information in our phones anymore. It will be in our hearts.