Thanks for the supportive and insightful reply. It sounds like your experience was similar to mine, as we also struggled through adversity together (our N64 was powered by a light socket and we couldn’t run the heater if we wanted to play it). Unfortunately she couldn’t overcome our childhood trauma, became addicted, and in the end decided to take her own life.

The Zelda obsession started with OOT for her. Eventually her love for the games led her to a degree in computer science and a hobby restoring consoles. I grew up, enlisted, and unfortunately we parted ways for the rest of her life. In spite of geographic separation, we always kept in touch and often shared the joy of the next Zelda products and rumors.

Whenever I play the games, hear the timeless soundtrack, or see any Zelda artwork, I remember her laughter as Darunia burst into dance at hearing Saria’s Song, her groans of sadness as the Great Deku Tree passed away, her gasp of delight as Anju and Kafai were reunited, and even her grumbles of anger as the Skull Kid declared that he “got rid of” Epona.

Bittersweet memories, but no matter how much sadness I feel at her loss, the games ultimately remind me of the happy moments and warm my heart. I am happy to have had her as my sister, even if only for a relatively short time.

“The flow of time is always cruel… its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it… A thing that does not change with time is a memory of younger days…”