I CHARGED OUT OF THE HOUSE late afternoon on a Saturday a few months ago with only two things on my mind: “Get to the Apple Store quickly” and “Pray that they can help you.” I prayed that they could help me during the whole 35-minute ride.
I still had a message on my phone from my father, left a week before he died. I think it was the sweetest message he’d ever left me, and I was terrified of not being able to hear his voice again. Our long-distance relationship had gone through huge ups and downs, but he and my mom had visited us recently. This message was left after that trip.