I am not the author. It was sent to me in an e-mail. I do not know who to give credit too but can and do appreciate the thought and sentiment expressed.
A post Brassneck made today reminded me of it.
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About Keepers:
I grew up 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, and 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, eating, 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 ...horses that can no longer
carry us... 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!
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Just saying THANKS to the friends I've made here over the years. Everyone of you keepers. Even though I may not know you if we passed on the street.
A post Brassneck made today reminded me of it.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
About Keepers:
I grew up 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, and 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, eating, 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 ...horses that can no longer
carry us... 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!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just saying THANKS to the friends I've made here over the years. Everyone of you keepers. Even though I may not know you if we passed on the street.
