My phone rang in the middle of the afternoon. My teenage daughter was calling, but she was supposed to be in class. I answered quickly and heard her sniffling on the other end. Something was wrong. At 17, it could be anything. I said her name again. More sniffling.
Trying not to panic, I took a deep breath. I didn’t ask if she was OK; her crying said enough.
“Where are you?” She explained that she was walking down the hall at school and having a hard day. She wanted to talk to me.
It’s moments like these that make me grateful for cellphones.
I have three kids, now 17, 19, and 21. All three got cellphones when they went to high school. I set rules and talked about responsible use. I am fully aware that some of those rules were broken over the years and that cellphone use has affected all of us. But not all of it has been bad.
Cellphones connect us when we need each other most — or even when we just want to feel close.
Cellphones bring us closer as my kids get older
When I first gave my kids phones, I thought it was all about my need to reach them, to know they arrived somewhere safely, to be available for them. And it was all of those things. But over time, that shifted.
As my teens became more independent and busier, the way we used our cellphones changed. When they first got cellphones, we were having family dinner every night, and I knew everything about their schedule. Phones were all about logistics.
As they grew more independent, we all felt the pull to stay close — and cellphones became a tool for that.
Soon, they had sports and jobs. They drove cars and went on dates. The time we had together decreased. It all made sense. They were getting older, after all. But as a close family, my kids wanted to feel connected to me.
My teens started checking my location more often than I checked theirs. They wanted to know where I was and when I’d be home. Sometimes they even ask for extra items from the grocery store along the way. Knowing where each of us was made us feel closer.
I love getting a peek into my kids’ days
One of my favorite things about cellphones is the random questions they send. In the middle of an ordinary day, I can get anything from “Is this a scam?” (yes) to “Do we have Hulu?” (yes, but I don’t remember the password).
One of my favorite questions: “Can you read this essay for me? It’s due in 10 minutes.” (Sure, sure I can do that).
Each of these questions is a small window into their day, revealing what they’re doing and what they need.
The less revealing texts are the one-word (or even one-letter) responses. “K.”
But even those are a point of connection. Sometimes they send me memes or shopping links. They all tell a story of what they’re thinking about, worrying about, laughing about. Things I would miss out on if we didn’t have cellphones.
The connections aren’t always light and easy. There are plenty of things they want to vent about. Or crying phone calls from the school hallway. There are declarations of being sick, running late, or not finding a parking space.
Sometimes there are offers to help: “Do you need anything on my way home?”
I’m grateful we have this way to stay close
I’ll take every single one of them: the texts, the calls, the forwarded TikToks. My favorites are the FaceTime calls because I get to see them, even when they’re miles away. They all keep us connected in a world that grows busier by the day.
Years ago, in the delivery room, my husband cut the cords that tied my babies to me — once, twice, three times. It was an act of love, of letting go.
But two decades later, I see that connection didn’t disappear; it just changed. Now it looks like texts, calls, and FaceTimes throughout the day.
I could be frustrated by this digital tethering, but instead, I find myself grateful. Because in a world where teens could pull away, mine are still reaching out.