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My wife's cellphone went on the blink Monday.
She skipped the first three stages of grief, went straight to depression and stayed there.
"I can't believe how bad I feel," she said, "like I'm lost and alone on an island."
Feeling sorry for her, I uttered the five dumbest words ever said. "You can share my phone."
"No. You need your phone," Honey replied.
"No I don't. Nobody ever calls me."
I made her keep my phone and I went down to work in the garden. Twenty minutes later she drove down in her car.
"Tim called but I didn't know how to answer your phone."
I have an iPhone. She has an Android.
"You just swipe it," I said.
"I did swipe it."
"You have to swipe it like this."
"I did swipe it like that."
I kept the phone and called Tim back. Twenty minutes later I drove back to our house.
"There was a text from somebody at the bookstore wanting your permission to post something on Facebook. He seemed in a rush so I told him to go ahead."
"That's fine," Honey said. "You'll be getting those texts a lot because I told Cowgirl in the Sand to add you to our bookstore group."
Grandson Bob called from his summer construction job to ask if I could bring my truck to pick up some free used fence posts during his lunch break.
"Take your phone with you. You might need the GPS," Honey advised.
"Nah," I replied. "Bob gave me the address and directions. He said I can't miss it."
I missed it. Twice. But Bob ran after me down the road waving his arms so we got the fence posts and he didn't miss lunch, barely.
As soon as Honey discovered on Monday that her phone wasn't charging she had taken it to the local AT&T store. Being with the big carrier we may pay more but they're always there for us.
"It's not charging," they said after examining the phone, and sent her down the highway to Brian at PC Doctors, a local tech repair shop.
"Looks like a bad charging port," Brian said. "I'll order the part. It should be here in two or three days."
For the next three days, when she wasn't praying to God to heal her phone, Honey and I continued to trade mine, based on who we guessed might get the next call or text. Meanwhile, we discussed the idea of obtaining a spare, like we used to keep a spare car for a family backup.
"We could go back to a land line," I said, "or get a burner phone like criminals use on TV shows."
Honey's idea was that the younger grandsons will need a phone before long. We could get one now and have it ready when they reach the age.
I recalled that my sister Col. Peggy had said Doc's phone still works, so I called. She said it does and we were welcome to it, but after he died she deactivated the number. She charged it up just in case, but it's an iPhone and I knew Honey would never switch from Android. She's stubborn that way.
Two days passed and Honey was saying scary things like, "I'm almost used to it now. It's peaceful. Like when I'll be dead."
On the fateful third day my phone rang. It was Brian at PC Doctors. The new charging port worked!
My wife screamed for joy and jumped into her shoes.
"Here, take some tomatoes and corn," I said, handing her produce as she danced out the door. She had just picked green beans so she took them, too. That's how we country folks say "Thannnnnk Yoooou."
Honey still likes the grandson phone idea for Shark's two boys. They could share it.