It was a beautiful relationship, one full of fond memories. Perhaps once in a lifetime by exchanging every intimate detail of ones life is such a deep, deep bond felt between two, inexplicably dependent on each other in furtherance of their mission in life. She was the one that held all of my memories. Who held within their heart all the joy of acceptance letters from my publisher, each progressing manuscript update, and memories of Christmas past? Who is so close they know all of your passwords, and PIN numbers? For me it was Sara. I am not sure how to grieve. The loss is complete and devastating. Will I ever be able to trust again? I am hurt, racked with pain, a bit confused and perhaps I feel a little guilt. Did I take care of Sara in return for everything she gave me? Probably not, I took her for granted; I assumed she would always be there for me. Tomorrow I am going to begin by breathing in and breathing out. Life goes on; Sara would have wanted it that way. One thing I have learned from this is to back-up, back-up, back-up. Sara was a wonderful hard drive. She lived for almost five years. Thats equal to about eighty human years. The doctor (computer geek) said he could transplant a new drive in her and she would be as good as new; but not to me. Without the memories, I would just as soon let Sara go completely. I wouldnt know her in a vegetative state. Sara lived with me through Windows 98, Windows ME, and an upgrade to XP, so it was really hard to sign the donor card and watch her lifeless carcass be carried of to be recycled. Perhaps she can give life with some of her parts to a hurting family somewhere. Remember to back-up your files daily, or at least weekly. As I rebuild my life bit-by-bit (literally), I will think of Sara and know she has finally stopped spinning for good. She is at rest. |
