I recently decided I wasn’t smart enough to own a smart phone. I would be much happier with a dumb one.
Many years ago, Janet decided I needed a cell phone. I had just had a heart attack and had a stent inserted. She didn’t want me to have another heart attack all alone with no one to take me to the emergency room. I could call her. I tell stories at a lot of different places so if I had any palpitations I could call 9-1-1.
This phone had everything on it. Facebook. Video games. Map directions. Anything I wanted on the internet was on that cell phone. The only problem was that I used up all my minutes halfway through the month so I had to put that stupid smart phone in a drawer for two weeks until the next billing period began. It would be dumb to pay for extra minutes.
This also illustrates the irony of our lives. If one of us was going to die early we both figured it would be me with the bum heart. Who knew Janet would develop breast cancer?
It’s been over a year since she died, and I figured I need to go back to the simple reason Janet had for buying the phone in the first place, so I’d be able to call for help if I had another heart attack. She didn’t buy it so I could play games. I cancelled the contract with the old company and found a new phone that made calls and sent texts. That’s all I needed.
Then I got a bill from the old cell phone company for $350. It seems Janet had been paying off her phone and mine a little bit a month and we still owed $350.
Once again I found myself taking my lumps and paying for two cell phones I wasn’t using. Then it struck me that they were still in good condition and maybe I could sell them. I have a friend who knows all that computer stuff and he said they were worth some money. The only problem was he had to know the password and code word to make them operable for a new owner. First I had to come up the answer to the personal questions: what was the name of your first pet and what was the make and model of your first car?
Remembering it was Janet who set the phones up, I had to remember her first dog and her first car, things she had before she even met me. No problem. I knew every detail of her life. Easy answers. The next part was a little harder. I had to come up with her password. Luckily I still have her little blue book of codes and passwords. I found it—matthew2526.
The phones have been sold. Out of curiosity I looked up Matthew 25:26:
His master replied, “You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed?
Isn’t it wonderful? I may know the name of her first pet, but I will never comprehend the furthest reaches of her complicated intelligent mind. That’s what made living with her for forty-four years so exciting.