I never thought I’d get choked up about the death of Steve Jobs, but I guess I was wrong.
I have upwards of 7 Apple products within 10 feet of me, and I love them all. My entire adult life has been irreversibly intertwined with Apple’s products; the timeline of my adult life can be told by recalling each of my Apple purchases. I won my first iPod as a prize in a sales contest at my first job out of college. I learned how to wheel through the songs while sitting next to Zack on the couch 8 years ago when we first started dating. I bought my first iMac (the computer I’m using right now) while I worked at Camp Eagle. I loaded music onto my brand-new iPod shuffle for the first time when I was starting my first running program 3 years ago. I saved up all of my pennies for my MacBook Pro so that I could take it to nursing school with me every day. I don’t know if I could have done nursing school without it. And now there’s my iPhone, which is never too far away from me. It wakes me up every morning with an alarm that reminds me to kiss my husband before I get out of bed, just like he kisses me every night when he comes to bed, even if I’m already asleep.
Sure, Apple is just a company that makes products for consumers to buy, but somehow, it’s become more than that to me (and my generation). I can’t look at anything that Steve Jobs created without thinking of the best times of my life — and for that, I will be forever grateful.
If you want to give something back to Steve, go here to sign up for The Texas Organ Donor Registry. It’s an official list, unlike the little symbol on your driver’s license. If you go there to register, your commitment is recognized legally — and it allows hospitals to easily identify your wishes, which helps them save more lives with your organs. Texas has the lowest number of registered donors of all 50 states. Let’s change that.