Before I moved into my current home several years ago, I had been at my old house packing up to move a block to where I am now. One particular weekend, the temperature in Vermont was extremely hot and the old home did not have air conditioning. I had already had the keys to my new home and spent a few days there in cooler temperatures.
When I returned to home with a friend, I couldn't get into the house at first because someone had locked the screen door. This was odd as you can't lock it unless you were in the house. I was able to make it into the house and discovered that someone had broken in. They rummaged through the bucket of loose change on the kitchen counter, broken a light bulb in the basement and use the grill. They had left food in my fridge which indicated they were planning on returning. It was an intrusion, a violation of my of my home. A home that I had lived in for 42 years and moving to a new place was hard enough.
That was five years ago. Recently, in my new place, which is a condo and has a storage cage in the parking garage, was broken into. I don't have anything of value in my storage cage but I had put tarps all the way around so you couldn't see it, all my stuff was in tubs, and I had a heavy-duty chain and lock on my cage. Still, the broken in and rummaged through everything. They went through a tub of items that belonged to my deceased parents. One item was my dad's old boy scout uniform which had been neatly packed only for me to find it thrown about and on the ground crumpled up.
There was a box of items belonging to my parents that was from the funeral home and hospice where my mom had been until she passed. The funeral home here had put my dad's wedding ring and his K-mart Casio watch in a blue velvet bag. The thieves took the bag. It was like I lost my dad all over again and it hurt that they took it, not knowing that the ring had been on my father's dead had five years earlier.
Eventually, I knew that I would say good-bye to that ring when I passed but the only way to deal with it was to tell myself that I let go it sooner than I wanted. I have no siblings and no relatives nearby so when I pass, it all has to go. Out there some thief has my dad's wedding ring, probably sold it to someone to get drugs.
They have no idea of the man who wore that ring and the life he led. They have no idea that he served his country in the United States Air Force, station up in Alaska working on the DEW line to ensure our safety. They have no idea that he was a small-business owner or that he built an 18-foot satellite dish out of newspaper tin print sheets, screen and steel pipes in the early 80's. They don't know how much he enjoyed riding his John Deere tractor around the yard.
The thief took my dad from me again. They took him without asking and that's what hurts so much. He was my dad, not theirs. They didn't hit the Cumberland Farms for coffee and slushies every week. They didn't go dumpster diving or build a pond in the backyard with him. The weren't there the day I had saved up enough money to buy him a brand-new John Deere and had it delivered as a surprise. They weren't there the day I bought him his used mini-van with had all the bells and whistles. He loved that thing. He always drove a Dodge because they had good heaters and a good pick-up in the engine. It might have been a mini-van but it was a sportscar to him.
It seems only appropriate to have Jerry Reed's East Bound and Down as today's musical treat.
Rock on!
~Maynard
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