Little Things.

Little Things....

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 are 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 in the washer. The steady stream of hot water was leaking from 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 they arrived.

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 off panels and pulled out parts,  removing things I didn’t even 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!”

Rolling over my dad showed me the two Mercury head dimes he held in the palm of his hand. They had somehow gotten into the pump, tumbling around in the water so long the copper edges now formed a copper ring around each dime.

I ' m proud to say I inherited 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 deep inside the machine until the patch dried. In no time my little turquoise washer was as good as new. I thought my Pop could fix anything….or at least I always knew he’d try. Nothing was really broken till he ran out of duct tape, and while the fix might not be pretty, it was still a fix.

I held on to the tumbled 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. Now 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; I sat 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 cranky washing machine pump that day.  I recounted 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……without opening his eyes 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 often we don’t see for the big things they actually are.   Do yourself a favor, slow down and learn to embrace the small things before they become memories.

                                                                          Life is Good