Look at me--a repost

Look at me. I mean really look at me. I know I am not much too look at now but at one time I was the answer to prayers. I was loved. Someone once saved and scrimped to have me, and was so happy when they could finally claim me as their own. I was one of the high points of their life. They worked and did all kinds of stuff just to have me. They planted flowers and bushes for beauty to surround me.
I had a family….I heard the laughter of the children along with their quiet talks with mom and dad. I heard the children playing on my porch and in the yard. They had a swing in the old oak tree that used to stand out to the side here. They caught lightening bugs in the dusk of summer evenings…finally, after growing tired they would settle on my front porch to plan for another day.

I was home to them...I kept them warm in the winter and sheltered them from the storms of summer. I was the place they took refuge in when life got hard. I saw them through the Great Depression, I was here when the son came home from WWII. I saw one daughter sneak her first kiss in the swing on my front porch. Another left here to be the first to go to college.
Meals were cooked in my kitchen, Thanksgiving and Christmases were celebrated, friends came and went. I was at the center of their life. My living room was a welcoming friend at the end of a long day's work. I was the holder of their dreams.

What led from then to now, happened so gradually I was hardly aware of it happening…the children grew up and married and had homes of their own…after several years the dad died, and not too long after that the mom passed….you can sort of imagine the rest. I was going through my own grieving and was hardly aware of time passing.

Now I am in this state and an eyesore to some, while a few others look at me and wonder what tales I could tell if I could talk.
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Some of you have read this--I hope you don't mind the repeat.  I am bringing it back to share with Linda's Wednesday Wit and Wisdom at Senior Adventures.  At least if I can remember.

From 2008

I remember taking the photos in the fog...almost as if it were yesterday.  This is only a couple or three miles from here on a country road.  I was pulled to the side as far as I could, but still felt I had to rush.

I have probably posted one or both of these before, but still I like them.

We ran to Walmart right before dark.  Of course it was dark by the time we came home...and the road was so slick we drove along about 25 or 30 miles per hour for most of the way.  Thankfully, there were few cars on that road, and the few we saw were creeping along, too.

We saw where one had went down over the bank...we probably just missed seeing it happen.  And after we got home, we heard all kinds of ambulances.

Anyway, it was trying to get foggy, and it reminded me of these.

Remembering summer

After a rainy and dreary day, this old photo caught my eye...we have not even had a hard winter and I am ready for summer.

Does anyone ever just relax on Sundays?  I always feel like I need to accomplish a little something each day.  I tried to just sit and work my puzzle and do nothing but kept feeling as if I should be up and doing something.  So, ended up down in the basement and did a couple small loads of laundry. 

While clothes were washing, I decided to try to find something to toss in the garbage or a donate bag.  I found old VCR tapes where I had recorded quilt shows.  I thought I had gotten rid of all of them, but got in a drawer and found some that I had had there handy to watch while I was down there.  So into the garbage they went. 

Even though I had disposed of a lot more than those, it still felt strange to throw them away.  Sort of like getting rid of an old acquaintance.  They had all been watched numerous times.  I watched them when I recorded them, then later there were favorites that I watched several times more.  Anyway, they are gone.

And I found 3 or 4 more boxes to collapse and throw in the garbage.  Does anyone else save boxes because they think they might need them to mail something in?  I don't save all boxes or anything...but I always save one here and there.  

A little here.  A little there.  It is all better than nothing.  One of these days, maybe I will feel like I am done decluttering...do I hear laugher out there?  You know, it could happen.