The wait at Ted’s Café Escondido restaurant was 25 minutes. Should have called ahead—that will teach me. If I had a smartphone, maybe we could’ve booked ahead.

We took a seat in the waiting area. Apparently a lot of other people were several steps ahead of me. The iPhones and iPads were everywhere.

Okay, I admit. I don’t get out as much as I should. But I was shocked by how many people have smartphones. I mean, not just the teenagers, and the 20- and 30-somethings, but 40-somethings on up and elementary school kids on down.

Honestly, I thought that waiting room was a miniature Bizzaro World. Aren’t restaurants places where people come to eat and talk to each other? To let someone else do the cooking so they can relax and communicate with each other over a good meal? We sat on a bench across from a family of four. Nicely dressed. Looked successful. Two elementary school children. And not a single word spoken. Just silent tapping and touching of screens. Not one of them appeared to be happy.

Another family of four trudged past and dropped down into some chairs to the left. Out came the iPhones. Down went the eyes. Closed went the mouths. Silence. Then a family of three. They chose to remain standing while they used theirs.

It was then that it hit me. It wasn’t all these people who were weird. It was me. We were the odd ones out. I could sense the techies’ surprise when they glimpsed my family and I on the periphery of their screens. Poor disconnected kids. So deprived. Those parents should be ashamed. That boy must be 4 years old already. Why doesn’t he have an iPad yet?

I counted up the techno junkies. Besides us, there were 18 others, 15 of whom were using various electronic devices. But wait. Who’s that down in the corner? Someone is reading a newspaper. Woo-hoo! Where did she find that? I felt like running over to congratulate her. But less than a minute later out popped the phone so supposedly she can text or tweet or update her page or just thumb through her various screens.

Incidentally, dinner was great. Yet, once again we noticed just how attached people are to their smartphones. This time, it was a table of college-age girls next to us. I thought the point of a night out with friends was to spend time with your friends. Judging from the prolific phone usage, these girls obviously had many other things going on at the same time.

The world is changed. With handheld devices, you never have to be alone. Last year, American teens sent on average more than 3,000 text messages each per month. You can be connected to your friends and family, or any number of strangers, via Internet 24 hours a day, no matter where you are.

Yet why is it then that so many people feel alone?

According to Antony Kidman, author of the book Staying Sane in the Fast Lane,technology obsession is radically changing relationships—and severely affecting mental health. iPhones, iPads and other electronic devices are directly responsible for both a rise of anxiety and depression, and a rapid breakdown in family relations, he says.

Technology is pushing family members apart into their own individual “techno-cocoons,” says Kidman. Technology is leading families into living very separate lives.

People are linked through bits and bytes, but are lonesomely starved of meaningful, deep, undivided communication.

Consider your own situation. How easy is it to come home after work and instead of giving your spouse some attention, or playing with the children, you instead check the news? Do you feel lost/hungry/scared/insecure when you don’t have a fully charged smartphone on your person? Maybe it does only take you 30 seconds to respond to a text message, but do you really have to keep checking your phone every five minutes? And when you stop a conversation to answer every ping of an incoming message, even if it only takes 10 seconds, you’ve already lost the moment.

How about giving your family as much time as you give your phone? The accumulation of those 30 seconds isn’t just measured in hours or even whole months, but in pages—and chapters—out of your family’s lives.

During the 30 seconds you spent checking your stock quotes or sports scores, you missed your budding sports star of a 3-year-old excitedly sprint into the restaurant because the whole family was going out to dinner together for his favorite food. Had you not told your daughter to “just wait another minute” for the third time in as many minutes (while you finished updating your profile on Facebook), you might have noticed that she really wanted to talk to you about something important. Maybe that 30 seconds—while you waited for your food—held the potential to change her life forever.

Are the lost moments worth it?

My wife mentioned that when she takes our son to gymnastics, most of the other moms barely even watch their children. The only time they seem to look up from their devices is if their child has to go to the bathroom or the teacher brings their child out for misbehavior. After half a year of classes, most parents still don’t know the names of the other children in their child’s class. Parents: Don’t you want to be involved with your children? Aren’t you interested in how they’re progressing; what they are struggling with, where they excel?

At the end of the day, is it the hours you spent reading old text messages, checking your day planner for the 10th time, or surfing the Web that are really fulfilling? No one is going to care deeply about how many Twitter followers or Facebook “friends” you once had—not even you. What really matters is your family and your actual relationships.

Smart devices might be some of the greatest inventions of all time. They allow instant access to information. If used correctly, they can help with scheduling, time management and many other things. They can even connect you to people who you would never be able to communicate with in person because of distance.

But sadly, these little smart devices that can make our lives so much easier and so much more stimulated can also become the most perfect little destroyers of real, human, flesh-and-blood, vibrant and alive, heartfelt and sincere communication.

It is reported that J. Paul Getty, supposedly one of the richest men to ever live, once said that he would happily give all his wealth in exchange for a happy marriage. How many other people have come to the end of their lives and felt that they too would happily give it all up if they could just go back and praise the first feeble steps their daughter took (but they missed because they were too busy to notice)? Or if they could just go back and see the look on their son’s face when he hit his first home run (but they missed because of the glare on their screen)? Or if they could take more time to notice from the beginning that their teenager was being verbally bullied day in and day out through her Internet phone (and could have changed their whole high school experience)?

Don’t be one of those people who wake up at the end of their life and realize they have missed the best and most important parts of it. Take the time now to reconnect in a real, personal, in-your-face way with your family before it is too late. It is the smartest move you will ever make.