Your Keepers
By Author Unknown
I grew up in the fifties with practical parents -- 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, dish towel 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...old radios...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.
like people we know who are special.....and so, we keep them close!
Who are the keepers in your life?
Your parents sound like mine. My father had his own last to put new soles on worn out shoes. I of course keep all my 23 direct descendants, and their spouses. Not many old friends now that we are in our eighties we have outlived many of them, but we do have several that we have been close to for more than twenty years. I keep memories too; birthday cards that have been sent to me by special people, and gifts for the same reason, and many photographs.
ReplyDeleteThanks Kitty for sharing your story - enriching as usual. The story in the blog wasn't mine. BUT it is not much different from my own story. I grew up in the sixties and going to school in early 70's. I remember very well the concept of re-use, recycle ... we even have to wear clothes belonged to the older siblings.Possession had very little meaning, everything is shared. We lived with the basics, other than that was a big no. Therefore, we or I for that matter, grew up to appreciate WHAT I HAVE.
ReplyDelete