Losing Your iPhone as a Senior is a Serious Problem.

I have a solution.

Lee-Anne Hancock
4 min readOct 4, 2022


Photo by Agnieszka Boeske on Unsplash

Two days ago, I lost my iPhone. It almost makes you feel disorientated. Luckily I could use my husband’s phone to tell my friends not to text or call me.

About a year ago, my husband and I decided to use an app to track my phone. If I ever was out running and didn’t return, he could tell where I was by checking his phone.

Weren’t we the bright lights? Apparently not. More on that later.

When we left the city and moved to the suburbs, there were two things I could not leave behind. One was my family doctor, and the other was my hairdresser.

My hair is difficult to work with. It is very thick, with cow licks in a few places, and will change the direction of the growth when it chooses. My hairdresser is now just over an hour away. She has cut my hair every month for the last 25 years.

She does a full cut and occasional color on alternate months, and then in between, she does a clean-up and thinning of my hair. It grows very fast.

Two days ago I decided to take the bus and train to her place as I wanted some time to read, and I was going to have a nice quiet day. No housework, no writing, and no chores at all. Hah!

The day started badly. I slept in. I never sleep in.

The bus arrived late, which made me later since it didn’t allow me to connect to the train that I needed to be on time for my appointment.

Since this was a clean-up appointment, my hairdresser fit me in despite being late. On the way home, I felt calmer and enjoyed my reading. Five minutes from where I got off the bus, I called my husband. He would leave and pick me up from the usual stop.

I am not a gentle person, and so I have my phone in a wallet with a thick black cover to protect the phone. It contains my driver’s license, debit card, Starbucks, Tim Horton cards, library card, and several other cards.

I thought I had put my iPhone in my backpack on the seat beside me and got off the bus five minutes later.

About 45 minutes later, I was looking for my phone. After calling myself with my husband’s phone and double-checking the car, the…



Lee-Anne Hancock

Retired Poison Control Specialist. Now writing murder mysteries and blogging about life, family, and the fun of retirement.