I wrote an email today about a memory I had of my brother and a technology first. It went a little something like this,
Dearest Dil. I have a story I want to share with you.
I remember the time when I came home after my first (and only) camp experience. It was the next day when I came down to your room in the basement at our house on Spadina. I asked you to help me get an email address. I told you that on the last day of camp everyone was exchanging email addresses and I shyly admitted to them that I didn’t have one but I would get as soon as I got home. I must have been 12 or something and hadn’t ever used computers much. I mean we had a chunky desktop computer that was dial-up so let’s be real, there was very little to no interaction until that point. You helped me set up my first account on Hotmail and MSN Messenger so I could keep in touch with my new friends. I still remember you teaching me what to do. You even picked my password for my email account because I couldn’t think of one that was long enough. You chose “clueless” because of how much the girls in our house loved the movie – another indication of how long ago this was. Well ten years later that was still my email password, even after switching to a gmail account. Something about that password always reminded me of the day you taught me how to use email and my first real need for technology (I got my first cell phone the next year). It’s almost eerie how vivid this memory is for me. Down to you sitting in that big maroon chair and me leaning over you as you pointed different things out.