I didn't care what title she used, I just called her Miss Treo. My memory, my lifeline. She took care of me. She would warn me every morning at 9:45 that it was time for standup. She would warn me again if scheduled or unexpected meetings occurred.
She was right there in the meeting with me, notebook in hand, ready to write down any important information that came up. Did people want to schedule something? She'd flip right to my calendar, and I'd study the days and schedule the meeting. I'd pencil it in, and she would promise to remind me about it soon.
She didn't just stay with me at work though. When we weren't working, we'd play all kinds of fun games together. Sukoko, Lines, Marbles, Mine Hunt. Sometimes she would sing to me, when I wanted to work out, or when I wanted to be woken up in the morning.
She was also good with a camera -- even though the camera itself wasn't good, she always helped me capture memorable pics. Memory and mementos were very important to her. She was always storing them away, names, photos, numbers, info, directions, and music. Things I was going to do. Things I needed to do. Places to go, items to purchase. She cataloged it and retrieved it at need. That was my Miss Treo.
When I went to Europe a year ago, naturally she came along. She studied Italian, so we'd have at least some means of translating the language in front of us. She also became adept at converting Euros to Dollars. She also took care of my journaling needs, helping me record everything I enjoyed, so I'd remember all the minute details later.
And she always had a few books tucked away, so she could read me to sleep at night. Or at least, she could hold the book so I could read myself to sleep at night. I always had a book available to read while waiting in a dentist's office, or in line at the market, or wherever! She was good about keeping me from boredom.
She was also always happy to surf the web for me. Not just my email, which she always retrieved for me, but "answer hunting" on the web was her specialty. She was a little slow in finding it, but her answers were almost guaranteed to be relevant.
It is therefore with no small regret that I must announce her disappearance. My little sunshine, my memory, is gone! She could be just lost. She may have suspected that I might want to replace her, so she could have run away from home. I, on the other hand, I suspect kidnapping. She was worth too much to too many people for her to get home safely.
Alas, little Miss Treo, you will be missed. I can't call anybody, nor go anywhere, without feeling the emptiness of your once-presence. Hurry home, my life, and come back to me.
Or if you cannot return, try to send your soul ahead in the one who is to replace you. I know we two will see one another again. If not soon, then perhaps in the One Who Follows. Or perhaps at an unexpected trade show.
No matter what, Miss Treo, I will never forget you. Even if I get a shinier fancier toy, it will never have your spirt -- unless you are clever enough to jump in, right before they seal the soul!
Until this happens, I'm going to have to painfully manage my schedule, my friends and phone number, my games, my photos, my shopping lists, and everything else she took care of.... all by myself! Scary. I don't know if I'll succeed in that....
... in the meantime, please don't call poor Miss Treo any longer, Direct any personal correspondence to my email or home phone. Together we can find a way to get through this hard time.