I grew up in the fifties with a practical parent --
a mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil
after she cooked in it, then reused it.
She was the original recycle queen, before they had
a name for it.
A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed
than buying new ones.
Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their
best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now,
Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress,
lawn mower in one hand, dishtowel in the other.
It was the time for fixing things -- a curtain rod,
the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a
dress. Things we keep.
It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me
crazy.
All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted
just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence.
Throwing things away meant
you knew there'd always be more.
But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's
night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck
with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any 'more.'
Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up
and goes away...never to return.
So while we have it, it's best we love it and care for
it and fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick.
This is true for marriage and old cars and children with
bad report cards and dogs with bad hips and aging
parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are
worth it, because we are worth it.
Some things we keep.
Like a best friend that moved away -- or - a classmate we grew up with.
There are just some things that make life important,
like people we know who are special.....and so, we keep them close!
Let those people that are "keepers"
in your life know about this.
Good friends are like stars....You don't always see them, but you know they are always there
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