A couple weeks ago I made a trip out to my parents house. Normally nothing unusual about this. However, this time it was to start going through my old room. My parents have decided to downsize. The house my siblings and I grew up in is way to big for them. Within the next year they will break ground on a much smaller home.
I am super excited they are pursuing this yet sad at the same time. I am sad to see my childhood home depart from my life yet happy at the idea this home could bring happiness to another family. Another family that is creating all new memories. Memories I hope they will look back on with a smile on their face, like I am doing now.
During one of the trips out to the truck during this visit, I walked by an ancient machine. I turned to my dad and said, “If you ever decide to get rid of this I will gladly take it.” Right then and there he threw the keys at me. Oh wait, its not a car but an old Macintosh Performa 6200CD. My first computer ever.
This thing had a whopping 1 gigabyte hard drive, 8 megabytes Ram, and could cruise the internet at the massive speed of 14.4k (with the external modem of course.)
I was so excited to bring this bad boy home that night and set it up in my living room. The nostalgia immediately came flooding in. It was like I was a kid again playing Warcraft, Warcraft II, Sim City 2000, and PowerPete.
Although I know in the end this computer will rarely be turned on again after that night. The fact that I am now the owner of this part of my childhood is priceless. Looking through the computer there is more than just old video games. There are old files of working parents using technology to convenience their lives. There are old letters that provide tiny glimpses into how my parents thought and how they felt over the years. Watching their children grow and become their own persons. This is truly why this computer means so much me.