The Things We Keep

I grew up in the forties 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, 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 just once wanted to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there'd always be more, and 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 just 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. We care for it. We fix it when it's broken. And we heal it when it's sick.

This is true for marriage, for children with bad report cards, for aging parents, for best friends that move away, and for dogs with bad hips. These are things that make life important. Things we keep.

We keep them because they are worth it. Because we are worth it.

~ By Sheri Sobek ~