R.I.P dear phone

On Saturday after class, I was at J8 running a few errands before heading home. KH was working all of Saturday (he would eventually only return home on Sunday morning at 6am after pulling an all-nighter at the office) so he couldn't pick me up as he usually does. So after class, I walked to J8, bought ingredients to make a porkchop dinner, some drinks etc.

I was carrying a lot of barang-barang. Hailed a cab and got in. But with the hassle of transferring a lot of bags etc into the cab, my little handbag fell onto the road. I picked it up, did not notice that my phone had gone under the cab. In fact I did not even notice that the phone was missing until Sunday morning.

By then of course it was too late. A visit back to the scene of the crime showed only a smashed battery, a battered case backing and a number button hanging forlornly from a string of rubber. No sign of the SIM card, or anything else.

I was so angry with myself for my carelessness. Losing all the phone numbers in my contact list is vexing enough. But given time, I can rebuild the list.

What was more of a heartache was to lose the photographs I had taken - shots of Trin as a little baby, Trinity curled up like a papoose, asleep in my yellow sling, Owain as he grew from a baldy 2yo to now, wearing his blue sunglasses and a crown, Owain as he nursed, 3yo Cait looking beautiful in her little Indian outfit, Owain's teeth stained purple with gentian violet and so on. Then there were the sounds - baby Trinity crying in a high newborn wail. Owain singing a boisterous Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (it was my ringtone), Cait singing We Are The People In Your Neighbourhood (from sesame stree). And messages: Sam's message the day after Trinity's birth, KH's messages from Paris.

I can never get those back again.

Losing the phone really made me sad. You know how I feel so silly about attaching sentimental value to inanimate objects - well, my phone was no different. It had accompanied me everywhere I went and weird though this may sound, I felt affectionately attached to it on some level. It was a medium through which some of the best memories of my life passed through.

That sounds terrible and silly and maudlin, and I can just hear the sensible, no-nonsense types snorting: ridiculous! See how much value she places on a phone. Just a phone!

But the biggest heartache was the realisation that I could never get those little snapshots of memory back again. It felt like I had lost some part of my babies' babyhood/childhood. Like erasing a part of my life. I mourn for this.

So I am still sad. But helping me get over it a teeny bit was my new phone. I needed a phone to operate (for business, for family to contact me etc) so that Sunday itself, I went right out to get a new phone. Bought myself a bronzy-brown Sony Ericsson K800 Cybershot. I've always liked it and eyed it for a new phone should the opportunity ever come my way. Well it finally did but under such sad circumstances.

Well, if I learnt anything from this, it is to make sure I know how to transfer all my data from the phone to the PC/hard disk. Then even if the phone goes ka-boom, I still have what is most precious to me - those fleeting moments captured on camera but have now passed away.