"Life in a dumpster"
By Bob Perks
can't stand to watch it any more. But I
like poking at a sore. You know it will
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
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.
taking care of each other since her
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
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!"
If I stopped in with some goodies, she'd
give me a
big kiss right on the lips while holding
my face in her
The only family left decided that she
shouldn't live alone
any more. Early this week she had a
Just moments ago, the two bone pickers
drove off with
her memories. I most likely will see the
furniture go today,
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
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!
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