I left my cell phone in an antique store about 200 miles from home. We didn’t discover its absence until we were 100 miles closer to our front door. My son had received a call from my sister’s partner. Apparently a young man at the antique store scrolled down the names listed in the cell and found one labeled “Mom.” The antique man called her to let her know he had my cell phone. Then she called my sister and then after a call to my son and then to the antique store and the post office, we worked out the logistics of its return.
When the phone arrived at the house C.O.D. the next morning, I discovered I had two messages. The first was from my mother. “J, a very nice man at an antique store called me to tell me he has your cell phone. He wants you to call him at 517 352-7610. Let me repeat this. Call him at 517 352-7610. Make sure you call him right away.”
The second message was the sound of my mother hanging up her receiver.
Postscript: Some time this last winter, my mother called me on my cell and said after I answered, “Oh great, honey, I ‘m so glad you’re home.”