In the Spring of 2022 my family and I went on a “float” of the Rio Grande with friends and family. The day started innocuously enough, but as we put-in our paddleboards and canoes things took a turn (or dip) for the worse. The Rio Grande in the Spring is, in parts, a bustling and full river, at least it was last year. Even if you can stand up in many parts, it has a current that on this day immediately forced us sideways and awkward. My niece was connected on an innertube, but we should have created more slack, with her pulling at the rear and me being the only one in the canoe, we were at a clear disadvantage. We capsized and my first thought was save all the stuff in the canoe, which forced me under the river for a moment. My wife who was close by was watching and we both realized how foolish we were, I could have drowned right there and then. After a frantic few moments we worked to get to the shore, ending up at a spot where the water rushed briskly on the banks. I realized my phone was in my pocket and I took it out to make sure it was still there. Bad move, Kader. It slipped out of my hands right into the Rio Grande. Say goodbye. Say hello to the Apple Store for a new one. Pat yourself on the back for being an idiot. I hadn’t backed it up in two months. Life goes on.
The greatest loss from that phone submerging was a video I took of my son and I riding a roller coaster in Santa Monica, California from February of that year. I wanted the look on his face as we let go of the pandemic, had a moment of freedom and joy – his smile and the sounds he emitted were beatiful and enriching and I’ll never forget them. The video capturing that moment is on that phone at the bottom of the river. I’ll never get it back, but I’ll never forget the memory.
Jacob Kader 