My Laptop's Death

A week or so ago I received a phone call from Texas. It seemed my beloved laptop had died a slow water-y death. Somehow there was "liquid damage." I don't know when. I don't know how. I only know that the cost to repair was nearly the cost of replacing my beloved little white machine.

As a writer, not having access to my most favorite tool has been sad. I have oodles of stories to write. Ones about adventures in Maui (over one month old) or of my children growing, myself evolving. I have been procrastinating bringing my computer in to the Mac Store because I could sense the news would not be happy.

The death of my laptop has sad because it symbolized a gift from someone four years ago. This individual saw I was a busy mom with three children and one computer. At the time, we each had to wait our turn to get online. I had already cooked and cleaned in my home both before school and again later, taught in a classroom all day, driven numerous routes in the carpool lane to various sports' practices, games and more, corrected homework for my own children as well as over 65 students and then cooked and cleaned some more. And then I had to wait my turn to type away.

My beloved laptop was an unsolicited present and totally unexpected. It was given to me during a lunch and with an explanation that there were no strings, expectations or hidden meanings. It was a gift to a writer from someone who understood.

That machine helped me to create stories of my family, myself and friends. It allowed me to create a DVD for my entire immediate family of our history set to music with a myriad of photos. It brought comfort to all of us while my dad fought his cancer courageously. I will never forget watching the DVD as a giant audience in my sister's living room in April of 2007 with tears of sadness mixed with joy and laughter. A year later we edited it for his memorial service. I had photos of my children's most recent events. I journaled. I emailed. I poured my heart and soul onto the keys of that little engine that could.

The friendship has shifted and though we keep in touch on rare occasions I have always appreciated the spirit with which the computer was given. Time moves on and so do people.

Yesterday I took money out of my limited savings and went to the Apple Store. I purchased a new little silver machine. I have high hopes for more writing, with some more ideas and sites and avenues brewing. And though my white machine has died, my friendship has shifted I continue to be optimistic about what is around the next bend.

Thank you for reading...