I grew up in the forties and fifties with
practical parents--a mother, God love her,
who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused
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. They fixed things--a curtain rod, the kitchen
radio, a
screen door, the oven door, a hem
in a dress. Wrapping paper was carefully removed
from
packages, folded, and used again. Buttons were
cut off old clothes and saved for other
clothing to be
made or repaired.
Leftover foods became casserole dishes and soups.
Anything that could be used again was,
including, as
new products became available, washing and drying
plastic storage bags and
using them over and again,
putting out dryer lint for nest building birds in the
springtime
and saving it the rest of the year for stuffing in pin cushions and
homemade dolls for
grandchildren. Hair from hair
brushes likewise was used. Nothing ever was thrown
away
until there was absolutely nothing left to be
used in any other manner.
Chipped dishes became saucers for flower pots and
socks were darned. During WW II,
runs in hard-to-get
stockings were embroidered with pretty flowers. The
worn centers of
sheets became rags, and the outer
edges were sewn together to make crib sheets.
Clothing was passed down from one child to the next
or given to relatives who could use
the garments.
Flower sacks became aprons and dishtowels, or
panties and dresses for little
girls.
Things we keep. It was a way of life that sometimes
made me crazy. All that refixing,
reheating, renewing,
and reusing. I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste
meant affluence. Throwing things away meant there
was more.
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
.......care for it
.......fix it
.......heal it. This is true
.........for marriage
........old cars
........children
........pets with bad hips........aging parents
........grandparents
........friends we cherish.
Some things we keep because they are worth it, and
because we are worth it. Yes, some things we keep.
Like a best friend who moves away, or a classmate
we grew up with, or
e-mail friends we've never
personally met.
There
are just some things that make life important and more
complete, especially people we know who are special to us. So
we keep them close and let them know how very, very special
they are.
...author unknown.
Thanks
OE Shaffer for forwarding above email 1/14/03
