My beloved MacBook Air passed away this week from a malfunctioning hard drive. She was really there for me during some hard times. When Jake passed away, I wrote and wrote and wrote to deal with that grief.
Those many pages are gone now, lost to the ether. I could get the laptop to a data recovery center, but at this point I don't have the funding or the need to access those documents. They may still be present on the hard drive, but for now they'll lie in state, along with the MacBook, in my closet until there's an extra couple hundred dollars lying around.
I did manage to get my book project off before she died, so I'm thankful she hung on until then. When I tried to log back on to get the rest of my documents, she wouldn't start. I took her to the Genius bar at the Apple Store and after running some diagnostics, the verdict was delivered. DOA. Hard drive compromised.
I never used the laptop for anything other than email, internet access, and writing. When I moved to my new apartment a few years ago, I watched Game of Thrones on that laptop until I could get my TV hooked up. I also watched season one of Outlander on DVD on that laptop, with my external drive.
She was a great laptop, and if I'd had the funds, I might have replaced her with a younger sister MacBook Air. But times being what they are, I got a Windows-based PC, and it's going well.
But I'll never forget that MacBook Air. I can't bring myself to recycle her, so she's going to rest in peace in my closet until a time when I think I can recover data and/or part with her.
Holly's MacBook Air. 10/3/11 - 2/10/20. Godspeed, my friend.
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