When Jordy died, he had his phone with him. It is really difficult to salvage any information from a waterlogged phone; but I was tasked to do just that.
In the hours and days after we lost the youngest of Smith boys, we all had things to do. My duty was to save Jordy’s phone.
It was recovered from his person at the bottom of Ricker’s Pond. The divers found it.
I put it in a Tupperware container full of rice.
So many memories from his point of view potentially lost.
Like most everyone else, weeks after our loss, I caught myself talking to Jordy out loud to myself. The longest conversation I had with him after he died was when I cracked open the Tupperware container.
“Jordy, I hope we saved your phone. You took tons of pictures, brother.”
Not sure why, but I missed him the most at this moment. It was my last intimate and private time with him. Holding his phone. Popping of the protective case. Removing the back with a tiny screwdriver. Hopes were dashed. The entire inside was rusted.
My eyes clouded up. I shook my head. I missed him so much. I wanted to see what visual treasures he left behind that I could share. But that possibility fell away.
“Damn it, Jordan. How can any of us move on without you?”
Then Jordy talked to me.
I didn’t notice it before. Jordy stuck a fortune cookie fortune inside his phone’s protective case. It said “A lifetime of happiness lies ahead of you.”
His message could not have come at a more perfect time for me.
Obviously, he stuck it in there after reading it one day as a token of good luck to himself.
And to be fair to him, he did have a lifetime of happiness.
A lifetime is not measured by years, but by experiences lived and friendships formed. He did have a lifetime of happiness.
And at the moment I needed to have hope the most, my little brother delivered a fortune that I will keep close to my heart for the rest of my life.
That… plus an intact SD card that he saved all his photos and videos from his phone.