"Life in a dumpster"
By Bob Perks

I can't stand to watch it any more. But I do. It's
like poking at a sore. You know it will hurt but
you still do it.

Lil is gone.

No, she didn't die, but they carried her body out in
hundreds of little pieces. Some went to two ladies
who pick bones for a living, some went to a man
who offered a "good price" for her furniture and the rest,
well the rest went into the dumpster.

Lil is the lady who lives across the street from me.
Lived across the street, I should say. We've been
taking care of each other since her husband Ray
died. I snow blow her sidewalks and clear a spot
so that visitors could park there.

Every morning I walk out to my deck and wave across
the street. It's not that she could see me, it was just in
case. Well, it was because I wanted to.

Lil would call me when the hot water ran cold or the cable
box wasn't working. I would bring her a slice of apple
pie and ice cream when I baked one. I often worried if
she should eat stuff like that. I asked her time and again
and she would say, "No, but if I die, I'll die happy."

She had a great sense of humor.

Every time she'd call she'd end by saying, "Oh, wait. You
know what?" "What Lil?" "I love you!"

She did.

If I stopped in with some goodies, she'd give me a
big kiss right on the lips while holding my face in her
hands.

The only family left decided that she shouldn't live alone
any more. Early this week she had a dumpster sent.
Just moments ago, the two bone pickers drove off with
her memories. I most likely will see the furniture go today,
too.

This past week I've been speaking out loud to her husband,
Ray. I must have said "I'm sorry!" a hundred times. They never
had children to pass on such things to, but I don't think he
planned on it ending this way.

"Lil won't be back here any more, Bob," I was told.

I cried. You know me. I cried without shame.

My wife watched me standing in the window a few times
this week. She knew what was going on inside me. So,
when I walked up to her yesterday and stood in front of her
quietly, she knew I had something important to say.

Catching my breath, as I tried not to come across emotionally,
I simply said, "Promise me." I swallowed hard. "Promise me that
if you should move after I'm gone." I swallowed again. "Promise
me that you will let the boys go through everything you don't want.
I mean everything. Don't decide what you think is junk. Let them."

She smiled and hugged me. One of those hugs I get so very often
when she knows words will not do.

I don't want my life in a dumpster.

In about a month I will see Lil in her new home. Several miles away.
A nursing home.

She will hug me, hold my face in her hands and give me a big kiss
right on the lips.

And until the home is sold and new people move in, I will keep
waving across the street at Lil.

This beautiful writing is by Bob Perks, (Keynote Speaker & Author)
Please do not take his writings without his explicit permission.....
And if you use them always give credit where it is due..... Thanks!

 

"Share to a Friend"