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PatchWork |
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PatchWork |
Last Updated 09/06/05
Email: joy@our-town.com
Some Things Are Worth
Keeping
Should
I keep this or toss it? Will I ever again wear this dress? Is it good enough to give away or is it too good to pass on?
What about this stack of old newspaper clippings?
How long has it been since I used anything in this file?
These thoughts run rampant through my head as I make an attempt to “get
more organized”. Actually it is
an effort to get organized at all!
My
home office in a bedroom that once belonged to our son, is often cluttered and
looks like a meaningless mess to visitors, however to me it is arranged so that
I can find it, whatever “it” might be.
My life is sorta like that too. I
seldom let go of anything for fear that I might need it later and I can always
find it, well maybe not right away but sooner or later.
Most
things are worth keeping like friendships, teeth, and warm coats.
Lots of times something old is better than something new, like a bottle
of wine or last year’s Niki’s.
Sometimes
something very old brings a big price like your great-grandmothers’ cut glass
punch bowl or your dad’s pocket watch. Most
of us can stroll down the isles of any antique mall and repeat over and over,
“We had one of those when I was growing up.
I wonder whatever happened to it.”
Then when we notice the price tag, we just shake our heads at our loss by
not hanging onto it.
I
grew up during the depression which just about says it all right there.
Nobody that I knew had much in the way of spending money but as farmers
we never went hungry. We were never
at a loss for love and friendship either. It
was a time when neighbors knew each other and helped out when needed.
My
parents never threw anything away if there was any possible use for it.
They also made everything that they could. One of my most treasured
kitchen decorations is an egg beater that Dad made for Mother before I was born.
It consists of twisted wire in two different varieties.
I look at it now and smile knowing that Dad made it and that Mother
whipped up the meringue for so many pies using it.
Mother
used to make string and rag balls for me to throw for the dog to retrieve.
I’ve seen her unravel flour and meal sacks by pulling a string, then
wind the string around a small piece of cardboard to begin.
She always had string to mend a window screen or tie up a school lunch
wrapped in newspaper,
Dad
took inner tubes that were too patched to use on the car; cut them in strips and
wrapped them around leaks in water pipes. He
secured them with a piece of baling wire.
Baling
wire, now that’s a whole story in itself.
Lots of stuff around the farm was held together with the help of baling
wire. Flexible and strong, once hay
bales were broken open, the wire that held them was now handy for dozens of
other uses.
Tow
sacks could also perform miracles. Glass
fruit jars and crock jugs were wrapped in pieces of tow sacks, soaked in the
water trough and then filled with cool water to take to the field and drink from
between “rounds”.
All
my life I was taught to save, repaint, rewind, redo, rip up a garment and make
it over, make a slingshot from the fork of a tree limb, plow that field
again after the sandstorm cut off all the tender cotton at the ground.
It was a life that I cherish because it was an education in never giving
up, not accepting defeat.
Then
came the day I got a phone call and there was a
lightning trip back home to my Dad’s bedside.
On that day I learned that somethings you can’t keep forever.
Sometimes they get all used up and then they go away and leave you
wondering how you’ll ever get along without them.
So
while I have it, I’ve learned that it is best to keep it and love it and care
for it. Fix it if it’s broken and
take care of it went it’s not well. That’s
true if it’s a marriage, aging parents, a grandkid that gets in trouble, or an
old dog that has arthritis.