The Cell phone Overcome the forgetgullnes

Life in Laguna Woods: The Cell Phone That Overcame Forgetfulness

— A story shared by an 80-year-old senior

01. The First Story

Coming down the mountain as the sun was nearly setting, the old man reached the parking lot when he finally realized his cell phone was gone. Where could he have lost it?

He recalled sitting for a while on an old bench beneath an ancient sycamore tree on his way down. That bench was the most likely place he had left it behind. Turning back meant at least another 30-minute walk. Losing something always leaves a sour taste in the mouth. His memory and deduction could be right, or they could be wrong. Even if he was right, would the phone still be sitting there? Complex thoughts flooded his mind.

A wave of regret washed over him. The tiny screen carried the warmth of his touch, photos of his children, and his daily schedule—was it now trapped in the dark, falling into a stranger's hands? How many things had he let slip away along the path of life? Just as his youth had departed, was his smartphone leaving his hands so quietly as well?

By the time he approached the bench, dusk had settled over the trail, and fellow hikers had vanished. Only an occasional young person on a bicycle passed by. Coming closer to the large tree, he could see the bench, but he was still too far to spot the phone. Covered in a black case, it was even harder to see in the dim light.

Finally, he stood right in front of the bench, taking in the whole view. Where was the cell phone? Ah! Like a sweet cat waiting patiently for its owner, the phone sat quietly in the corner of the bench. Reunited at last, the old man and his cell phone shared the quiet joy of finding each other again.

02. The Second Story

After spending time with a friend at the neighborhood park, the old man returned home at dusk. It was only after finishing dinner that he noticed his cell phone was missing. He seemed to have left it on the park bench. He rushed back, but the phone was nowhere to be found.

Unable to let go—like missing a lost love—accepting the harsh reality that "It's gone. I'll never see it again" was too heavy a burden. He felt strongly that it must still be somewhere. Sitting quietly to think, he remembered that his name and contact information were written on the phone case; surely someone would call him.

Then it struck him: that wasn't a solution either. The contact number written on the case was the very number of the phone he had lost.

His next idea was to go back to the park and keep dialing the phone, hoping he might hear the ringtone nearby. That, too, proved useless. His final resort was to contact the security office. He placed the call, and after a long ring, a voice recording answered: "Please leave your name, phone number, and a brief message." Following the instructions, he left a voicemail. It felt like the only thing left he could possibly do.

Growing tired of waiting, his wife decided to dial his lost phone number. Magically, someone picked up. Her face lit up instantly. The person who found the phone had dropped it off at the office, and the voice on the other end belonged to a security officer.

The next morning, brimming with excitement, he hurried to the security office next to the community garden. Reunited with his phone, the old man rejoiced as if he had found a lost puppy.

03. The Third Story

He visited South Korea for the first time in three years. His homeland was always as warm as a mother's embrace, especially with relatives and old friends to welcome him. Holding a small Korean flag, he stepped out to the Gwanghwamun Intersection.

On his way home, he stopped by Kyobo Book Centre to buy a few Korean books. Shortly after, the clerk rushed customers out, announcing it was closing time. He left the store in a hurry. After walking for quite some time, a memory suddenly flashed in his mind—he had left his cell phone resting neatly right next to a computer keyboard inside the store.

That bookstore was a bustling place, also selling cosmetics and women's accessories. In such a crowded spot, the chances of a cell phone surviving felt slim. It's lost, he thought. He recalled a previous trip when he had accidentally left an expensive Leica camera on the subway; he couldn't even file a proper claim and simply had to write it off.

To lose something, to part ways—it is always a bitter experience. If a phone had feelings, it too would be aching with the heartbreak of losing its owner.

Even after returning home, anxiety weighed on him. Should he tell his wife or not? Telling her would mean hearing a earful of nagging. While finding it again seemed nearly impossible, somewhere deep down, he harbored a vague thread of hope. The couple agreed to visit the bookstore first thing in the morning and tried to sleep.

They arrived at the bookstore around 10:30 AM, an hour and a half after it opened. As the old man walked in to find a clerk, it was his wife who spotted it first: a black-cased cell phone sitting neatly right between a computer and its keyboard, placed there by a kind soul. Both were stunned. Finding it so easily felt like an absolute miracle.

Having gone through these incidents, the old man had to take a serious look at himself. There was no guarantee that luck, having favored him three times, would strike a fourth time. Thanks to its owner, the poor smartphone had essentially died and come back to life three times.

"Am I truly suffering from severe forgetfulness?"

Without hesitation, he bought a long elastic cord. He secured one end to the phone and clipped the other firmly onto his belt loop.

His forgetfulness hadn't cured itself. However, the fear of his smartphone getting lost and weeping on the roadside was now gone for good.

1040 words