A Letter from Alice

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt,and a hat, working on the lawn mower, and Mom in a housedress, dish-towel in her hand. It was the time of "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, eating, re-newing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's night, 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 away...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.

This is true... for friendships... and old cars... and children with bad report cards... Dogs and cats with bad hips... And aging parents... And grandparents... We keep them close, because they are worth it.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special... And so, we keep them close in our hearts.

Good friends are like stars.... You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.