ODE TO DELILAH for it was this week, I laid her to rest.
She will be remembered for her sleek grey body and underwhelming sense of purpose.
She never asked for much during our time together, just to keep things light (mostly off her desktop) and a proper goodbye (or shut down) at the end of the day.
Delilah, my seasoned and aged like a fine wine, Dell laptop bit the dust this week, leaving me just a little broken-hearted. OK---maybe devastated is the right term.
Delilah's passing into computer heaven, began on a morning just like any other. As per usual, we met over coffee, only this particular morning, she rejected all entry.
She was the best friend I never knew I had.
Delilah had been my trusted ally through several chapters of life. Her keys had become my home over more than four years together, endorsing my most dynamic moments as a journalist and keeping the fire burning on the longest of work nights. Her glow had followed me to many a coffee shop and enabled my creativity to be mobile.
At first, I was barely phased. I'm not much of a morning person, and the same is true for Delilah. As her processor too, has a hard time waking up.
I am always patient however, as I understand the hardship in waking up without coffee. It was only the third or fourth attempt, where I began to sweat.
I then took Delilah to see my dad. He has made this type of injury his life work, at least professionally. Before he had retired and grown his beard long and his style to traveling folk singer, he had dubbed himself the official "Computer Medic," running a computer networking and repairing business for two decades.
Delilah was sent to the operation table. He worked diligently for hours. I paced back and fourth, like the worried mother I was.
Finally he came out, somberly shaking his head. Delilah would not be making a return. I suggested a software update, a second opinion, anything!
In denial of the severity of this situation, I began my decent into my very serious second stage of grief--anger.
"Come on, Delilah get your shit together, we've been through way worse," I said out loud, emotional and not afraid to publically talk to a computer screen. Flashes of the time I dropped her on a cement parking lot, suddenly came into sight. I was in a hurry and not paying attention. It only happened once and I apologized profusely, but she survived.
Happier times, reminisced in my brain.
No, Delilah and I had never danced through a meadow of wild flowers together, but there was another time that came to mind. I had spent hours editing an interview and she had decided to stop working. I had not done a most recent save and my heart stopped thinking of the loss of work. Delilah, however, aka the Thelma to my Louise, came through with flying colors. She not only saved my most previous work but rebooted with a more charming demeanor, running more efficiently for the rest of the evening.
I began to bargain, "if you come back to me, I promise to never shut you down without first going through the control menu."
Delilah thought about my proposition. I could tell because she decided to do me one last favor. Apparently my dad, had opened sesame'd a secret entrance and it was now up to me to make the most of our last moments together.
I immediately went to work backing all the files that should have been backed up years ago. Diving into pictures I hadn't seen forever, and files I had long forgotten. Her belly telling the story of my personal life in pictures and my career in the myriad of written, audio and video interview files.
Tears began to lick my cheeks and I felt so unbearably sad. I was on my own blast from the past. She was giving me one last trip down the memory lane of our time together.
Somewhere amidst her starting and ending many of my days, in addition to, offering the finest of results to many of my search engine inquiries (she never judged my curious mind) or my social media distractions, we had grown rather close.
To the best friend I never knew I had, rest in peace. And to the external hard drive who now uncomfortably holds my digital life, I vow to be your best friend too.