What follows was submitted to the WMBW website as a comment on one of my earlier posts. I was moved by it; I wanted to share it; so I got the author’s permission to post it as a guest blog in its own right. My old friend, Ron Beuch, has clearly been doing some honest self-examination. I’m pleased to be able to share what he wrote:
The old man sits at the bench in his favorite sweats, the one with the hoodie. (A friend gave it to him for helping to build a stone water feature for his patio.) The overhead garage door is closed because the wind is blowing and the temperature is around freezing. This limits his light to the overhead LED spots that he installed recently.
Surrounded by the stuff of forty years, he hears the rattling of the doors and thinks of the sixty foot black walnut tree that fell on his stuff last summer. He puts aside his newly acquired paranoia of wind and inspects the silver he has been tasked to rescue, two wine goblets, two dinner forks, two dinner knives and a large serving fork. The wife has bumped his quota because she knows that speed comes with experience.
As he polishes these items he reflects on the memories connected to them, the romantic dinners with his wife, the family dinners on holidays, the parties with friends. The memory of his drinking problem dims the glow for a moment, but fortunately he won that battle. The white noise of the space heater warming his feet competes with the tintinitis that is buzzing like a summer evening in the background. As he dives closer in focus to the depths of the shine to see the blemishes that might mar the surface, his memory does the same with his past. When inspecting his psyche, some of the smallest details of his biggest party fouls surface.
“Who’s kids are those?”
“Whose tree is that?”
“I didn’t know sports bras came in that size.”
He can’t help but feel better when he compares these to what is coming out of the TV today.