Looking through pictures and posts I found this picture of a
Mercury head dime. It took my thoughts back to two of these dimes that were
very precious; I just didn’t know it at the time.
My three children are very close in age, and when they were
small it seemed my washer and dryer never stopped. One hot summer day I was distressed to find more water on the
basement floor than there was in the washer.
This was a greatly appreciated turquoise stack set that my Dad had bought for us. They were gently used when I got them and
hadn’t stopped since.
I tried to find the source of the water but eventually I gave
up and called my Dad. In those early
days of marriage my husband worked long hours, and Pop was the one I always
called for help. Of course he came over
right away.
Soon my little washer looked naked as Pop took panels off,
removing things I didn’t know could be removed.
He was flat on his belly on the basement floor, muttering expletives,
when I finally heard him say, “Here’s your problem!”
He rolled over to show me the two Mercury head dimes he held in the palm of
his hand. They had somehow gotten into
the pump and had been tumbling around in the water so long that the copper edges had
worn, forming a copper ring around each dime.
I get my “ I can fix it” mentality from my Pop. Instead of an expensive new pump, he went to
the store and bought some gunk you would use to fix an aquarium. Keeping his fingers in the pump he repaired
the hole, keeping his hand in the washer until the patch dried. Viola!
My little turquoise washer was as good as new. I thought my Pop could fix anything….or at least he’d try. Nothing was really
broken till he ran out of duct tape; the fix might not be pretty but it was a fix.
I held on to the dimes; I asked my husband to drill tiny holes in them (my apologies
to the US Treasury) and put sterling silver wires through them to create
pierced earrings that I still have today.
Fast forward about thirty five years, give or take a few. I sat at my Pop’s bedside, knowing he was
very near his last hours on this earth.
I had returned to be with him in the middle of the night; now I was holding
his hand and talking to him without knowing if he could hear me. The very precious time was ticking away.
I talked on and on about everything and anything I could think
of…from the activity of the squirrel outside his window to what the newspaper
held….all with no response. I chattered on as if, somehow, my voice could anchor him here.
Finally I got around to telling him what a wonderful father
he had always been, and how much I had learned from him. I recounted the story about the Mercury head
dimes he had pulled from the pump that day, reminding him about the good laugh
I’d had at his expense when his hand got stuck in the machine. I smiled as I reminded him how he had saved
the day by fixing my washer…….and he squeezed my hand.
I kept talking, telling him I still had the earrings I had
made….and he squeezed my hand again. I
knew then that he realized I was there and that this time we had together was
some of the most valuable time I would ever have in my life. That was the last response he made to any
stimulation….I am eternally grateful I was there.
As I’ve grown older I’ve come to realize that our lives are
made up of small things that, as they happen, we don’t see for the big things
they actually are. Embrace the small
things.
Life is Good
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