Today is a soft day. It feels like someone is praying for me or that angels are in attendance. For several days I have been pondering what to write for this blog, and the word that keeps surfacing is gratitude—gratitude for being able to sit at my dining room table while the pups take their morning nap and I write this blog. I know the news is disturbing, but even after my morning catch-up of all that is wrong with our world, I have a sense of blessing, hope, and continuity.
One of the things I have wanted to communicate to you, my tolerant readers, is how much I appreciate you and your comments. You never know what kind of message will arrive on Sunday morning or who will be writing it (that Marcy Mary can be so pushy). So thank you for holding my hand these past ten months as we have all walked through a pretty thorny garden. Being able to share my thoughts with you has been the fountain in the garden.
In 2011 I bought my first MacBook Pro. This event coincided with our eldest grandson, James, moving in with us. Jay was a computer whiz, and all I knew were PC products. Using an Apple device was like moving to a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language. But James came to the rescue. Well, actually, he came to the Mac’s rescue because it was in danger of being thrown out the window …
It is now 2020, and my trusted Mac was doing more thinking than acting—and at times becoming ominously silent. It was time to get an updated model, and we all know what a horror show that can be. After research and asking around, I settled on a MacBook Air. My old Mac gave up its secret to the upstart, but kept a few of its own. During this process, my friend Angela asked me if I had an external hard drive, which I read as eternal. That gave me pause—is there such a thing? Well, yes, there is an eternal hard drive, but it is not on any manmade machine.
So today, with a mild breeze blowing back the fog and stirring the wind chimes, I’m writing this blog on my new MacBook Air. I would like to say that the transition from the old Mac to the new was seamless, but is it ever? A friend (who is like a son) came to the rescue this time. All I have to do is send him a photo of whatever program hole I’m lost in, and Michael, my technical angel, brings light into the darkness. He also shoots stunning photos of the night sky, illuminating what is hidden in the heavens. To me, he is a revealer of mysteries.
My other writing angel is the aforementioned and aptly named Angela. She is the person who, week after week, edits and formats this blog, often finding photos to enhance the prose. You might not know this, but many authors have fragile egos (I’m raising both hands here). Angela, as my editor, is honest but always affirming. She is encouraging and never pushy, and I want her to know I treasure her skills and who she is. Over the years, Angela has become a close friend and a trusted keeper of secrets.
I want to wrap up this blog with an unusual thank you. The bulky old Mac sits in its usual place, with its scratched cover and bits of tape stuck to it. In the end, I could not have the hard drive wiped clean, nor could I give it up to be scrapped. I keep it charged and use it once in a while. I know it has a finite hard drive, but together we did a lot. Call me sentimental, but it does one other thing: it connects me to someone who, like all of us, has an eternal hard drive—my first Mac tutor. I can’t wait to see you, Jay.