I can't live. With or without you.
I spent last weekend celebrating. It was a real stretch for me. My son made his First Holy Communion. And in honor of us sharing our first official drink together, otherwise known as the Blood of Christ, I went all out. We had a big party with some other families in the neighborhood.
In the midst of the celebration I let my little guy play on my phone. It hasn't been seen since. Just like when my remote went missing, the police aren't doing a damn thing about it.
I woke up Sunday morning like I do most Sundays. Shaking. And filled with regret. I instantly remembered that I came home without my phone. Wasn't sure if all my kids were here. But I knew my phone wasn't. It's like a sixth sense or something.
See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I'll wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
Sunday wasn't a Funday. It was a really, really not so fun day. It's really hard to find your phone when you don't have your phone. I couldn't text anyone to ask if they had it. I couldn't call anyone. Not that I ever really call anyone. And the hopeless feeling I had thinking of all the unanswered texts people were sending me was unbearable. I'm here. I don't hate you! I just don't know where my phone is.
It finally dawned on me to use the old find my freaking iphone app. It came up at the address of said party. That was at 11:36pm on Sunday night. I was able to fall asleep knowing my baby was okay. In the morning when I checked again, there was no pulse. What good is a freaking app like that if the damn phone goes dead? I'll tell you what good it is. About as useful as Beau is at the grocery store. Not very freaking useful.
With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
My phone really does take up so much of my time. One of my kids could be bleeding and I'm like, one sec, I just got a text. Or the kitchen could be on fire. How the kitchen would actually catch fire I'm not quite sure. Unless I fell asleep in there with a lit cigarette. But anyway, if I got an FB notification, the fire would come second on my list of priorities.
Come Monday morning I know the location of my phone. And by that I mean I know what house it is in. Unfortunately it's lost in the biggest house in the entire neighborhood. Great for the family that lives there. Not so great for me. We search everywhere. But can't find it anywhere.
Through the storm we reach the shore
You gave it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
I'm waiting. It is now Wednesday. I have come to realize that life is really not worth living without my phone. It's just so hard. I had to get into my car and drive over to my bestie Flora's house to let her know I was alive. She lives like six blocks away. Thankfully she was able to tell our other bestie, Fawn, who was in Mexico and worried sick.
Instead of texting all of my neighbors every day, I have to send a child house to house to deliver my messages. Only prob with that is my kids forget the message or run into a friend and I never get a response. No one should have to live like this.
My hands are tied, my body bruised
She's got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose
My friend Flo stopped over to say our girls were starting softball and the coach called everyone to tell them what team they're on. Flo said, no problem, she'd find out for me and then send a pigeon with a note in it's mouth to let me know. I still haven't heard.
Then today I realize that I have no idea when all of my appointments are. I had to call doctors offices, hair salons, coach after coach. Then my cousin Jamy stops over and asks why I didn't just look on my husband's calendar since they're all synced together. Information I could have used this morning.
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
And you give
And you give yourself away
And if losing my phone wasn't bad enough. Our cable isn't working. I have zero communication with the outside world. I mean I still drink my wine at 10am as if Kathy Lee and Hoda were in my living room. But they're not. No one is. It's so quiet.
This is what it must be like to be dead.
I'm still holding out hope that my phone turns up. Even though I've been told that the first twenty-four hours are crucial. With each passing moment, a little more of me dies. I know how this is going to end. With me and a hand me down iphone 4s. I. Can. Not.
But like everything else I've been through, I will get through this. With or without you and my list of contacts, checking my email from a laptop. But know this. The struggle is real.
Eileen O'Connor is a woman-wife-mother living on the mean streets of the south side of Chicago. Check out her blog at No Wire Hangers, Blog.
Also check her out on Facebook.