Bittersweet

  Sometimes things can be a bit bittersweet.  Memories evoked by a found item can be both profoundly good but, at the same time, terribly heartbreaking.  Such confusing emotions spilled about yesterday. When Son was crawling about under the house doing the bug extermination chore, he called out that he found something that might be of interest to me.  After his finding of the previous residents' cesspool (at least that was some thirty years old and not fresh!) under there, I was a bit dubious.  I had doubts that anything found amongst the dust under a house could be of any value.  He proved me wrong. The item had value just not of the monetary sort.

  As soon as he crawled out from under, Michael handed me a fork and that piece of silverware caused a flood of emotions to well up inside of me.  I recognized the fork.  It was one of a set that Mom had given to me when Mark and I first married so many years ago.  It was not new even then.  This was from an antique set that had been gifted to her years before. Why was it under the house, you might ask.  Well, it was not there by any doings of mine.  Just a few years after we were married, our house caught fire and burned to the ground.  We lost everything we owned except for a rattle-bang car and the clothes on our backs. Everything...everything was gone in an instance.  Everything except for the two of us and the unborn child that I was carrying.  This was most devastating but two months later, all was right with the world.  Our little baby was born and wiped out any bad thoughts.  Still, losing everything was hard.  We had to start completely anew. Our entire house had been furnished with special items given to us by family and friends.  This is unheard of today with young folks as most do not want "hand-me-downs" but Mark and I looked at the the items as treasures gifted with love.  We were happy with used furniture and mismatched dishes.  Each item had a story to tell and was dear to us.  Things like the silverware from Mom and Pop could never be replaced.  

  I held the fork for a few moments and thought of Mom and Pop, of the first house we had and even of the first few years of our marriage.  I thought of the changes that had taken place in our lives and how through it all, we stood firm.  It is funny how a fork..a simple piece of charred silverware can get one to thinking.  This fork with half of its silver-plating melted, with its tines twisted and with ashes still embedded deep within the metal brought back so many bittersweet memories.  I have decided that I cannot part with the thing even in its terrible condition and have an idea of just how I will salvage it.  Perhaps that, my friends, will be another post at another time.  Right now, I am still pondering and remembering.