How We Learn and Grow

"...and if love remains, though everything is lost, we will pay the price, but we will not count the cost..."

–Rush, Bravado

Beatrice searched her backpack. 

"Where's my phone?" she said.

"You lost your phone?" I said.

"No, I just had it on the bus. It was in my pocket, but it's not now."

"Look through your backpack again." 

"I did. It's not there."

It was inevitable. The loss of something we should never lose. Especially when we're teenagers. But teens don't own exclusive rights to losing stuff; I recently lost the title to one of our cars. Gone. Poof. Farewell. 

Crap.

"You must have left it on the bus," my wife Amy said to our daughter. "Let's check 'find my phone' to see where it is."

We checked the app. Sure enough, it looked like the phone was moving along the bus route Bea had been on when she got off at our home stop. She had been hanging out with friends after school that day and then took the bus home from downtown. 

"This bus loops back down the hill, so you should go up to the upper bus stop and wait for it and then search the bus."

This caused Beatrice escalated angst. Her face contorted. "I don't want to go by myself. Can you go with me? Or, can you just call the bus driver?"

"We can call the bus station, but that won't help you get your phone back now," Amy said. "I have to go to a meeting, but you should still walk up there and wait so you can get your phone back."

At this point I had been running all the things through my head that we'd have to do if her phone was truly lost. And I didn't want to have to do any of them. 

"I'll wait up there with you. C'mon, let's go," I said.

"Okay. Thank you, Dad. Will you help me talk to the bus driver?" she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Yes, I'll help you. Let's go so we don't miss the bus."

We walked up the hill to the bus stop and sat on the bench. I was tired and wanted to relax before I had to pick up Bea's sister Bryce from theater rehearsal, but that wasn't going to happen now. I also knew Bea felt horrible and was stressing out about losing her phone, so berating and/or shaming her wasn't going to make things any better, or make me feel any better. The phone was gone and we just had to focus on hopefully getting it back. 

I had the "find my phone" app up on my phone and Beatrice's phone was supposedly still on the bus and coming back down the hill. We sat on the bus stop bench and waited. I told her if the phone was on the bus, we'd get it back and then go get her sister. She was stressing hard about it and I felt for her. She really thought she still had the phone when she arrived home earlier. 

"Thank you for helping me Dad and not making me feel bad," she said. 

"I love you, Bea. We all lose stuff."

"Love you, too."

A woman walked up to the bus stop and waited with us. We struck up a conversation and she was very empathetic about our situation and said she would help us. She told Bea she was 24 years old and still lost things. 

The bus arrived, and after telling the bus driver the situation, he was very gracious in helping us search where Bea had been sitting. The other passengers helped, too. But the phone wasn't there, and according to the app, it should've been. 

That's when Amy called to tell me someone had picked up Bea's phone and got off the bus further back up the hill. He was waiting for us in front of a convenience store not too far away. I called Bea's phone to confirm, and he was very nice and said he'd wait. We walked back down the hill, got our car, and drove up to where the guy had her phone. 

After thanking the young guy for finding Bea's phone, I handed Bea her phone and we drove home. Her face was flush with relief. 

"Thank you again, Dad," she said. 

"You're welcome. I'm just glad we got it back," I said. "Text your mom and tell her we got it."

"Okay."

"So, what are you going to do the next time you get off the bus?" 

"Double-check that I have my phone," she said and smiled. 

I then told Bea about the times when I was in high school when I locked my keys in my car and my dad had to come help me get into my car. Too many times, actually. He was in law enforcement and knew how to use a Slim Jim tool to unlock my car door. He reminded me constantly to always have my keys and my wallet on me at all times, to always know where they were at all times, wherever I was. 

And then I pointed out to her that today, there are three things you always need to know where they are: your keys, your wallet/purse, and your phone. Always know where those things are and all will be well in the world. 

Like Beatrice, I was quite relieved we had found her phone and again ran through the things in my head I would've had to have done if we hadn't. It's just time and money, I thought. We would've figured it out. But we did find her phone thankfully and all was well. 

It was also a special bonding time for us looking for her phone. I was still Dad helping Daughter who had lost something she shouldn't have, but getting angry about her losing her phone wouldn't have helped anything other than making her feel like unworthy crap. Encouraging her to be preemptive and double-check next time was a better use of my time, as well as sharing about my own teen and adult fails. This, I told her, is how we learn and grow. 

I'm not sure how much she got of that, but she gave me a big hug and thanked me again.