My sister sent this to me....

A Keeper

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, work shirt and a hat; and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and 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, re-heating leftovers, renewing; I wanted just once to be wasteful! Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.


But when my mother died, and I was standing in that clear morning light 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 a way...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.