You Don’t Know What You Got Till It’s Gone

By Nicole Cobar

Thursday night at 11:47 pm. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom while listening to music and procrastinating on my history homework. I had the materials I needed to complete my homework out in front of me, ready to be used. My laptop was open with the homework loaded, and I had my history textbook open to the pages I needed to read. Then, “Alone” by the Seattle Rock band, Heart, started to play on my phone. For some reason, one that I cannot explain, this song motivates me. I think it is because I would never want to disappoint the Wilson sisters.

Nicole Cobar

‘Will this job requirer me to look up from my phone?’

Feeling pumped up, I turn off my music that was playing from my cellphone, place my phone on my history book, and start my homework. That night, my homework was a piece of cake. I finished it quicker than I expected, which sparked feelings of pride and a small adrenaline rush. I close my history book, put it on my bookshelf, and turn to grab my phone, only to find that it wasn’t where I remember leaving it. I search around me for a minute, and I don’t see it. I shrug it off and decide to look for it in the morning.

Friday morning at 7:25 am. My mom is calling me from downstairs because it was time to leave for school. I start to panic because I was still looking for my cell phone. I decided to exit the house, without my phone, and look for it when I come back home. All day at school, I felt empty, constantly checking my pockets, then, realizing that what I was looking for was not there. Afterschool, my mission was to find my phone, so I turned my room upside down trying to find it. I cleared every inch of my floor and even took apart my bed, but with no luck.

Saturday was my mourning day. I was sad, disappointed, and without hope. I mainly just stayed in bed that day. Then, Sunday rolls around and knowing I had a history test on the upcoming Tuesday, decide that the weekend is a good time to study. So, I grab my history book and as I open the book, I see my cell phone, nuzzled in the pages like a bookmark. An indescribable feeling washed over me. A mixture of happiness, relief, and surprise culminated in a feeling that I would say is synonymous with euphoria.

Looking back at the whole situation, I realized I learned just how important my phone was to me. Before losing it, I would’ve proudly said that I don’t rely on my phone, which I now know is completely untrue. I call, text, email, tweet, take photos, navigate, take notes, research, and shop on my phone. It is clearly a big part of my life. However, I wasn’t aware of how important my phone was until I didn’t have it.

This realization serves as a lesson in gratitude and appreciation. More specifically, the lack of either. Without an appreciation for my phone, I wasn’t careful with it, causing me to lose it. Now, I wonder how many other things in my life I am neglecting and not treasuring. I do not know where this lack of gratitude originated, but I now see the necessity to cherish what you have. While this experience was directed toward the material items we own, this same thinking could be applied to people and abstract ideas such as experience or privilege. I hope by practicing gratitude and showing appreciation I can live a more fulfilling and satisfying life because I would become less focused on what I want and happier with the things I already own.

Interesting, how from an experience that caused me so much heartache, I learned a lesson that could reward unlimited happiness. Maybe I should lose my phone more often.