When I'm sad, I take my secret path through the woods where my first love lies dead and buried. Rusty was his name, and he was the best dog a little girl could hope for. Energetic and loyal, Rusty always used to cheer me up when I was feeling down. We would run through the woods on a crisp autumn day, Rusty chasing a squirrel and me chasing him and I laughed and played. He would kick up dirt and get it all over his face. Mama would make me clean him up, but it never seemed like a chore. It was just another part of the game.
We got Rusty as a puppy when I was seven and by the time I had to leave for college, his age was starting to show. He still had the same love and passion for life he'd always had, he just wasn't able to show it with as much spunk as before. I remember fearing, when I hopped in my dad's old Camero and road off with him to check in to my freshman dorm that I might never see Rusty again. It turned out I did get to see him one last time. That first Thanksgiving, Rusty was still alive. He seemed so happy to see me when I came home. My mama said it was like he was a brand new dog. But I think seeing me go again broke his little doggie heart. He was dead before Christmas.
The ground was cold, but not yet frozen when Daddy buried him. He marked to spot with a twig. When I came home for Christmas and saw the grave, the skies joined me in crying over the friend I had lost. My father found me and said I should come inside before I caught pnemonia. I don't remember agreeing, but I must have made it inside somehow or else I'd still be kneeling on Rusty's grave to this day.
That summer when I came home, I decided to plant a tree on Rusty's grave. It was in a rather large clearing, so there was plenty of room for a tree to grow without hindering the other trees of the forest. So I planted my sapling and it started to grow. Years passed, and it grew proud and strong.
When I'm sad, I take that path and go visit the tree. My Rusty's tree. It's taller than I am now. Quite a bit taller. It's big enough to attach a tire swing to it, and that's exactly what I've done. I take my children here sometimes to play. They have a dog of their own named Bandit. I tell them about Rusty and how much I loved him. I don't know if they understand that Bandit is the same, that some day he will die, too, but I hope that somehow I've at least prepared them a little bit for that lose.
For now, my children are happy and free like I once was. I want to protect them, to keep that way for as long as I can, but I have to prepare them, too. I love them so much, far more than any memory of any pet. I'd trade all my wonderful memories to give my children just one more day of happiness in their lives, if I could.
When I'm sad, I come to Rusty's grave alone and say a silent prayer of thanks for the time I had with him and how he taught me what joy and life and pet can bring to the life of a child. I sit in the tire swing and smile to myself, thankful too that the grave of a dog is my sad place. My parents are still alive and so are their parents. I know I'm going to lose them, but for now I'm holding on with all my heart until I do.
People grow old, times change, but my memories stay the same. The memories I formed as a child are shaped through the eyes of a child. I saw Rusty as the perfect dog, just like my children see Bandit as the perfect dog, and their children's children will see their dog as the perfect dog. Everyone's perspective is their own, but it's strange how alike they can be.
Rusty's tree taught me how we can endure despite lose. You might think I'm being dramatic. He was just a dog. But he was more than a dog to me. I know I haven't described it well, but he really was my first real friend, my first love. Rusty was the one who inspired me to be what I am today: a veterinarian. And his tree has shown me how something beautiful has grown out of who Rusty was to me.
As a vet, sometimes I have to put an animal down. Sometimes it's time. But I always do my best to make sure it's really time. Rusty might have seemed ready to go when I first went away to college, but the way he came to life again over that Thanksgiving, even though it was just for a few days, I think he needed to tell me good-bye before he went. Saying good-bye to those who love is important, even if those you love are pets.
When it is time for good-bye, I make sure the owners really get to do it properly. I give them space, room to grieve, we all need that. When you love animals as much as I do, no sadness displayed over the lose of a pet is surprising. I know what these "animals" can mean to people. I know what such an "animal" means to me.
You've probably realized by now that I'm not the best with words. What was the point of this all? Love an animal. Plant a tree. Share joy with your children. Love your family. All of these are things I want you to know and do. But really, for myself, I just wanted to share my love of Rusty with anyone who would listen.
When I'm sad, I follow my secret path through the woods to the spot where my best friend was buried, and I remember all the wonderful times we had. I sit in the cool of his shade, close my eyes, and see my family: parents, grandparents, husband, children, pets, and all. I open my eyes and I know that life is good. The spirit of love from Rusty protects and motivates me. It's beautiful and real. So thank-you, Rusty. You were the best dog any girl could hope for.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Words
It's only words. What matters is how I feel, not how I say it.
I told her that I loved her, and that was all I said. What other words could I say? For her it wasn't enough. I think I was wrong.
Words can't heal a lifetime of pain, no matter how eloquent. To realize the words that were never said, the feelings that were never expressed, that can't be expressed in words either.
Words can't take back a lifetime of wrongs. All I wanted to hear was "I forgive you." Did I even care if it was genuine?
I wanted her to be happy and miserable at the same time. "I wish the best for you," said with a smile. "I wish the best for you," spoken with a sneer. The words alone are not enough.
What a power it would be if words could make things true. Maybe if I say things often enough, I'll start to believe them. Is that close enough to making them true? "I love you."
For those who cannot see, words can paint a picture of beauty they could only imagine. For those who chose not to see, words are a wasting wind amounting to nothing.
I said I didn't love her anymore. The truth was, I loved her enough to see I was no good for her. Sometimes words can lie and speak truth from the heart at the same time.
Feelings exchanged through words form the most powerful words of all. I can't always know how you feel unless you tell me, and I can't understand how you feel unless you use the right words. Words can matter.
I told her that I loved her, and that was all I said. What other words could I say? For her it wasn't enough. I think I was wrong.
Words can't heal a lifetime of pain, no matter how eloquent. To realize the words that were never said, the feelings that were never expressed, that can't be expressed in words either.
Words can't take back a lifetime of wrongs. All I wanted to hear was "I forgive you." Did I even care if it was genuine?
I wanted her to be happy and miserable at the same time. "I wish the best for you," said with a smile. "I wish the best for you," spoken with a sneer. The words alone are not enough.
What a power it would be if words could make things true. Maybe if I say things often enough, I'll start to believe them. Is that close enough to making them true? "I love you."
For those who cannot see, words can paint a picture of beauty they could only imagine. For those who chose not to see, words are a wasting wind amounting to nothing.
I said I didn't love her anymore. The truth was, I loved her enough to see I was no good for her. Sometimes words can lie and speak truth from the heart at the same time.
Feelings exchanged through words form the most powerful words of all. I can't always know how you feel unless you tell me, and I can't understand how you feel unless you use the right words. Words can matter.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Dreams
Someday, I'm going to live in a mansion, a ridiculously large house with more rooms than I could ever possibly need with a butler and a maid, a cook and a gardener all in my employ. I will be the envy of all my friends. I will throw the most wickedly spectacular parties with caviar, live music from popular bands, and fireworks. Someday, it's going to happen. Everything else I do is just a means to that end.
Charles was in charge of the warehouse operations by the age of 22. He would have gone to college instead of working those 4 years, but he couldn't afford it yet. Now that he had his new position and a sizable pay raise, thanks to all that "hard work" and "dedication", he could finally afford to start taking night classes. A business degree was his aim. It seemed you couldn't get far in any business without credentials, no matter how savvy and spirited you might be.
It was beyond hard, but as he collapsed into bed at the end of each day, he reminded himself that it would be easier in the end. One year of night classes and then he'd start adding in online classes and before you knew it he'd have his associate's and then his bachelor's and soon his Master's. It did end up being a bit harder than he imagined, and he felt his health suffering, with anxiety and high blood pressure, but before he knew it, he was in his final two Master's classes in business. When he closed his eyes at night, he would see his future mansion even before he drifted off to sleep.
It was in one of those final two Master's classes that he met her.
She was beautiful even on her worst day. He could hardly believe someone hadn't snatched her up already. From snippets of conversation both overhead and engaged in, he learned that she had been essentially engaged to a man as stunning as she, but it was that "essentially" bit that caused the hold up because it drug on for nearly two years until the man admitted he could never see himself marrying her. He had been a fool, Charles thought. Who wouldn't want to marry this girl.
But after weeks of flirting and finally working up the nerve to ask her out, which he was going to do the next day, Charles got his first test score back. It was a pitiful C, so much worse than he had expected. Depressed, he sauntered into work the next day only to get a reprimand for said sauntering and for sauntering about all over the job recently, as if his mind was only half there. That was when Charles realized love, or the perception of love, was only getting in his way.
He redoubled his efforts and worked harder than ever, doing his best to ignore her, to try to even forget her beautiful name. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he managed to do it, pulling an A on the next test and getting a wonderful review of his remarkable turnaround on the job.
When you put your whole heart into career advancement, there is little if any room for anything else. Love only gets in your way. That's what he kept telling himself time and time again. On the nights when he would wake up from a dream about her, neck sweaty and pulse racing, he reminded himself that love of a beautiful woman was fleeting, but what he was working towards, his beautiful mansion, was real, attainable, and enduring. He told himself over and over again, and eventually the dreams and even the memory of her, of what might have been, began to fade.
Years passed. Raises, promotions, new positions. His bosses admired him and his co-workers mostly groaned and rolled their eyes until eventually he was the boss of all those former "co-workers". He was rigorously focused on advancing the company in order to advance himself. And it paid off in full.
After nearly 40 hard-working, dedicated years, he could finally afford his dream home. There had been no room for family, and very little room for friends, but he had what he had always desired: his mansion on a hill with a pool and tennis courts and even a couple of servants in his employ. A wonderful housewarming party with all his friends... or almost friends... or likable acquaintances. Many of the people there were his subordinates and not entirely comfortable, but he managed to invite over a few of his wealthy neighbors as well.
It was a glorious party: wonderful drinks and food, and those who knew their social graces telling him how wonderful the new place was and how he simply must stop by their homes so they could return the hospitality. Charles beamed with pride and thought to himself that he had never been happier. All his goals had been achieved. Now all that was left was to kick back, relax, and enjoy it all.
That kicking back was exactly what he did that night in his favorite of his six bedrooms. He untied his bow tie, kicked off his shoes, and turned on the news as he laid back in bed. That was when he saw her. After nearly 35 years, there she was on the screen. She was receiving a charity award for the non-profit she had started up nearly 20 years previously, to serve inner city youth throughout the region. She had aged, just as he had, but even through the imperfect TV screen, her perfection still shone through. His heart skipped a beat as his mind raced back to the dreams and the reality of her, some of it blurring together after all this years. And then, before he knew it, she was leaning over and kissing another man and inviting her grown children up onto the stage with her. One of them even had a tiny baby with them, presumably her grandchild. They all looked so happy.
Charles's pulse calmed down again as he scoffed and switched off the TV. He had clearly dodged a bullet there. A beautiful bullet, but a bullet nonetheless. Why waste your life helping others if you can't even help yourself? He had seen her clothing. Clearly second rate. And her husband really wasn't all that good looking. She could have done better, but Charles couldn't have. He had everything he ever wanted, and what did she have? Five minutes of fame on the local news. She only would have dragged him down; he saw it now for sure.
She'd had her dreams and he'd had his. His dreams of her had been pushed aside for the real dreams, the dreams of success and prosperity and material happiness. Had it been worth it all? Giving up any chance of being with her, with appearing on the stage as her simply husband with their simply children for a few minutes of recognition rather than a giant mansion and a lifetime of glorious accomplishments in business, had that been worth it? Yes, in his mind, absolutely it had been. He was the envy of all his friends. And what was she? Just a memory, tucked away. A memory in the ancient dreams of the man she had completely forgotten and whose mansion on the hill she would never see nor care about. He was the success she would never know, and that made him proud and happy. Why would he ever cry himself to sleep about that? All of his dreams had come true.
Charles was in charge of the warehouse operations by the age of 22. He would have gone to college instead of working those 4 years, but he couldn't afford it yet. Now that he had his new position and a sizable pay raise, thanks to all that "hard work" and "dedication", he could finally afford to start taking night classes. A business degree was his aim. It seemed you couldn't get far in any business without credentials, no matter how savvy and spirited you might be.
It was beyond hard, but as he collapsed into bed at the end of each day, he reminded himself that it would be easier in the end. One year of night classes and then he'd start adding in online classes and before you knew it he'd have his associate's and then his bachelor's and soon his Master's. It did end up being a bit harder than he imagined, and he felt his health suffering, with anxiety and high blood pressure, but before he knew it, he was in his final two Master's classes in business. When he closed his eyes at night, he would see his future mansion even before he drifted off to sleep.
It was in one of those final two Master's classes that he met her.
She was beautiful even on her worst day. He could hardly believe someone hadn't snatched her up already. From snippets of conversation both overhead and engaged in, he learned that she had been essentially engaged to a man as stunning as she, but it was that "essentially" bit that caused the hold up because it drug on for nearly two years until the man admitted he could never see himself marrying her. He had been a fool, Charles thought. Who wouldn't want to marry this girl.
But after weeks of flirting and finally working up the nerve to ask her out, which he was going to do the next day, Charles got his first test score back. It was a pitiful C, so much worse than he had expected. Depressed, he sauntered into work the next day only to get a reprimand for said sauntering and for sauntering about all over the job recently, as if his mind was only half there. That was when Charles realized love, or the perception of love, was only getting in his way.
He redoubled his efforts and worked harder than ever, doing his best to ignore her, to try to even forget her beautiful name. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he managed to do it, pulling an A on the next test and getting a wonderful review of his remarkable turnaround on the job.
When you put your whole heart into career advancement, there is little if any room for anything else. Love only gets in your way. That's what he kept telling himself time and time again. On the nights when he would wake up from a dream about her, neck sweaty and pulse racing, he reminded himself that love of a beautiful woman was fleeting, but what he was working towards, his beautiful mansion, was real, attainable, and enduring. He told himself over and over again, and eventually the dreams and even the memory of her, of what might have been, began to fade.
Years passed. Raises, promotions, new positions. His bosses admired him and his co-workers mostly groaned and rolled their eyes until eventually he was the boss of all those former "co-workers". He was rigorously focused on advancing the company in order to advance himself. And it paid off in full.
After nearly 40 hard-working, dedicated years, he could finally afford his dream home. There had been no room for family, and very little room for friends, but he had what he had always desired: his mansion on a hill with a pool and tennis courts and even a couple of servants in his employ. A wonderful housewarming party with all his friends... or almost friends... or likable acquaintances. Many of the people there were his subordinates and not entirely comfortable, but he managed to invite over a few of his wealthy neighbors as well.
It was a glorious party: wonderful drinks and food, and those who knew their social graces telling him how wonderful the new place was and how he simply must stop by their homes so they could return the hospitality. Charles beamed with pride and thought to himself that he had never been happier. All his goals had been achieved. Now all that was left was to kick back, relax, and enjoy it all.
That kicking back was exactly what he did that night in his favorite of his six bedrooms. He untied his bow tie, kicked off his shoes, and turned on the news as he laid back in bed. That was when he saw her. After nearly 35 years, there she was on the screen. She was receiving a charity award for the non-profit she had started up nearly 20 years previously, to serve inner city youth throughout the region. She had aged, just as he had, but even through the imperfect TV screen, her perfection still shone through. His heart skipped a beat as his mind raced back to the dreams and the reality of her, some of it blurring together after all this years. And then, before he knew it, she was leaning over and kissing another man and inviting her grown children up onto the stage with her. One of them even had a tiny baby with them, presumably her grandchild. They all looked so happy.
Charles's pulse calmed down again as he scoffed and switched off the TV. He had clearly dodged a bullet there. A beautiful bullet, but a bullet nonetheless. Why waste your life helping others if you can't even help yourself? He had seen her clothing. Clearly second rate. And her husband really wasn't all that good looking. She could have done better, but Charles couldn't have. He had everything he ever wanted, and what did she have? Five minutes of fame on the local news. She only would have dragged him down; he saw it now for sure.
She'd had her dreams and he'd had his. His dreams of her had been pushed aside for the real dreams, the dreams of success and prosperity and material happiness. Had it been worth it all? Giving up any chance of being with her, with appearing on the stage as her simply husband with their simply children for a few minutes of recognition rather than a giant mansion and a lifetime of glorious accomplishments in business, had that been worth it? Yes, in his mind, absolutely it had been. He was the envy of all his friends. And what was she? Just a memory, tucked away. A memory in the ancient dreams of the man she had completely forgotten and whose mansion on the hill she would never see nor care about. He was the success she would never know, and that made him proud and happy. Why would he ever cry himself to sleep about that? All of his dreams had come true.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Chosen
My name is Sarah Jones. I play volleyball and I love strawberries. I got mostly B's in high school, except history and American Literature, where I got A+s. I do well at something if I'm actually interested in it. I wanted to learn more about the military and about World War II. I have a dog named Champ who I train for agility competitions. He's pretty good, but he isn't quite living up to his name yet. And now, without me around to train him, I fear he never will.
They chose me, and I should be honored, but I know I'm never coming back home. I just want to be remembered by those I love and for those who don't even know me now to realize that I existed and that I did this to keep them safe. They keep telling me I'll be fine, that I have the training and skills necessary to come out alive. I don't believe that, and I suspect that deep down, they don't either, but I'm doing this anyway because no one has the skills and training necessary to come out of this alive.
I don't want accolades. It won't do me any good once I'm gone anyway. I just want people to know that someone is looking out for them. Today it's me. Tomorrow it will be someone else. Maybe it will even be one of them someday. You can enjoy life, love life, but don't cling to it too tightly. Be willing to give it up for the sake of others.
I'm not a hero. I'm just an ordinary girl. You might be ordinary, too, but you can still save the world, just like I'm about to do.
My family knows I love them, but tell them anyway. I know they'll cry, so don't tell them not to. Just tell me I did it for them and for me and for everyone, and I'll see them again. I know that I will.
They chose me, and I should be honored, but I know I'm never coming back home. I just want to be remembered by those I love and for those who don't even know me now to realize that I existed and that I did this to keep them safe. They keep telling me I'll be fine, that I have the training and skills necessary to come out alive. I don't believe that, and I suspect that deep down, they don't either, but I'm doing this anyway because no one has the skills and training necessary to come out of this alive.
I don't want accolades. It won't do me any good once I'm gone anyway. I just want people to know that someone is looking out for them. Today it's me. Tomorrow it will be someone else. Maybe it will even be one of them someday. You can enjoy life, love life, but don't cling to it too tightly. Be willing to give it up for the sake of others.
I'm not a hero. I'm just an ordinary girl. You might be ordinary, too, but you can still save the world, just like I'm about to do.
My family knows I love them, but tell them anyway. I know they'll cry, so don't tell them not to. Just tell me I did it for them and for me and for everyone, and I'll see them again. I know that I will.
The Most Amazing Girl
Will I ever be happy again? I loved her and I lost her. She was so cold. But as I ran my fingers through her hair a final time, tears streamed down my face. I said I would remember all the good times we'd had. I promised myself I wouldn't cry.
No matter how hard it gets, I will live on with my memory of how things used to be. Life is still worth clinging to. Life is still worth living.
She just seems weak and tired around me now. I miss seeing her bright, beautiful smile. The days get harder as she starts to slip away.
How could it be her fault? I try to tell her that it's not her fault. Now, I think she just feels guilty. She used to love spending time with me. She used to be full of life and joy. She used to be so hopeful, so long ago.
Sometimes, I still get to see her smile. Her smile makes it all worth it.
It's worth loving someone with your whole heart, even when you aren't sure how long they'll be around. I told her I would always be there for her, for as long as she would have me. She finally told me what was wrong. She cried in my arms tonight.
She should know how I feel, that I really care about her and what's happening. I've asked her what's wrong, but she seems afraid to talk about it. She's seemed distant recently, like she's not entirely there. I think it's good I didn't admit too much.
So I'll just enjoy this for what it is: an amazing adventure with the most amazing girl in the world. I'd hate to admit to something that she couldn't return to me. I know she feels something for me, but I don't know if it's the same as I'm feeling. Love is such an easy thing to feel and such a hard thing to admit to feeling.
She makes me a better person. She's so full of life and energy and joy. We treasure, but we also just have a lot of fun. We treasure our moments together. Even as time passes, it is still ridiculous how happy I feel around her.
This ridiculousness is a good thing, a wonderful thing. Others might make fun, but my feelings for her bring out the ridiculous. I don't know how else to describe it. It was like a waterfall crashing down into an oasis at the end of a rainbow. We had our first kiss today. It finally happened.
I'm not usually a shy person, but Lisa really messes with my head. How can I tell her how I feel?
I'm just enjoying what we have. Labels seem too simplistic for Lisa. We've done stuff with groups, but also with just the two of us. I don't know if we're dating or what. She agreed to hang out, but nothing was really well defined.
I know it's clique, but I think it's true. I think I might be falling in love. She's coy and flirty. She's just as amazing over the phone as in person. Her name is Lisa.
I'll probably call her tomorrow. By some miracle, I actually managed to get her phone number. It was an ordinary party until I noticed her. We met at a party. Though her eyes did seem to sparkle when we talked. But I'm not sure she really noticed me. Her smile said it all. Yet she went so much deeper than those surface attributes. She was everything I ever imagined: smart, funny, beautiful. I met the most amazing girl today.
No matter how hard it gets, I will live on with my memory of how things used to be. Life is still worth clinging to. Life is still worth living.
She just seems weak and tired around me now. I miss seeing her bright, beautiful smile. The days get harder as she starts to slip away.
How could it be her fault? I try to tell her that it's not her fault. Now, I think she just feels guilty. She used to love spending time with me. She used to be full of life and joy. She used to be so hopeful, so long ago.
Sometimes, I still get to see her smile. Her smile makes it all worth it.
It's worth loving someone with your whole heart, even when you aren't sure how long they'll be around. I told her I would always be there for her, for as long as she would have me. She finally told me what was wrong. She cried in my arms tonight.
She should know how I feel, that I really care about her and what's happening. I've asked her what's wrong, but she seems afraid to talk about it. She's seemed distant recently, like she's not entirely there. I think it's good I didn't admit too much.
So I'll just enjoy this for what it is: an amazing adventure with the most amazing girl in the world. I'd hate to admit to something that she couldn't return to me. I know she feels something for me, but I don't know if it's the same as I'm feeling. Love is such an easy thing to feel and such a hard thing to admit to feeling.
She makes me a better person. She's so full of life and energy and joy. We treasure, but we also just have a lot of fun. We treasure our moments together. Even as time passes, it is still ridiculous how happy I feel around her.
This ridiculousness is a good thing, a wonderful thing. Others might make fun, but my feelings for her bring out the ridiculous. I don't know how else to describe it. It was like a waterfall crashing down into an oasis at the end of a rainbow. We had our first kiss today. It finally happened.
I'm not usually a shy person, but Lisa really messes with my head. How can I tell her how I feel?
I'm just enjoying what we have. Labels seem too simplistic for Lisa. We've done stuff with groups, but also with just the two of us. I don't know if we're dating or what. She agreed to hang out, but nothing was really well defined.
I know it's clique, but I think it's true. I think I might be falling in love. She's coy and flirty. She's just as amazing over the phone as in person. Her name is Lisa.
I'll probably call her tomorrow. By some miracle, I actually managed to get her phone number. It was an ordinary party until I noticed her. We met at a party. Though her eyes did seem to sparkle when we talked. But I'm not sure she really noticed me. Her smile said it all. Yet she went so much deeper than those surface attributes. She was everything I ever imagined: smart, funny, beautiful. I met the most amazing girl today.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
My Vacuum Cleaner
My vacuum cleaner sucks. Well, in another sense, it doesn't suck at all. It just rolls along the carpet making noises that terrify the dog and failing to pick up any of said dog's loose hairs. Vreererere Vreeeereeer and my floor is still as dirty as ever and the dog is in the other room with his tail between his legs.
Maybe I should just get a new vacuum cleaner. But it's such a hassle. I have to figure out what to do with the old one. I have to research which brands are the best these days. I have to find a cost effective option that won't upset my husband. I mean, he doesn't care if the floor is dirty anyway. He works in a dirty construction site all day. He's part of the problem, tracking in all his dirt and grime, but it also means he doesn't really care if the floor is a mess. He's used to it at the site. I love the man, but he is a little bit of a slob.
But enough about my husband. Back to my vacuum cleaner. As much as it sucks or doesn't suck, it does hold a special place in my heart. It was a wedding present from my grandma nearly 8 years ago. She couldn't make it to the wedding, but she sent a new vacuum cleaner right to our threshold. My husband literally had to move the package out of the way before he could carry me over said threshold. It was a bear of a vacuum cleaner, but it worked really well. Really, really well. My floors ended up spotless, even with the dog fur and the tracks of construction dirt. Plus, it was from my precious grandma, who died about two years into our marriage.
It was all downhill from there, though. The vacuum started to decline not long after my grandma passed away. If it was a pet, I would say it missed her presence, even though she only came to visit our house once. Still, it was bizarre, as if it knew the person who had given it a home was gone and it just didn't want to function right anymore. It wasn't terrible at the start. I'd just notice a speck of dust here, a bit of fur there, but I could always just pick it up and toss it away. No big deal.
But lately... this thing just doesn't work at all. Said specks of dust and bits of fir are everywhere even after I've vacuumed over the carpet multiple times. I feel like I'm letting grandma down tossing out her gift and getting a new vacuum cleaner, but on the other hand, she gave me said gift so I could keep my house clean, and now I can't keep my house clean. Maybe she would want me to get a new vacuum cleaner.
I guess it's time to suck it up and start doing some research. Figure out what brand, what it will cost, how to sell it to my husband... Although... now that I think about it... maybe it just needs a new filter.
Maybe I should just get a new vacuum cleaner. But it's such a hassle. I have to figure out what to do with the old one. I have to research which brands are the best these days. I have to find a cost effective option that won't upset my husband. I mean, he doesn't care if the floor is dirty anyway. He works in a dirty construction site all day. He's part of the problem, tracking in all his dirt and grime, but it also means he doesn't really care if the floor is a mess. He's used to it at the site. I love the man, but he is a little bit of a slob.
But enough about my husband. Back to my vacuum cleaner. As much as it sucks or doesn't suck, it does hold a special place in my heart. It was a wedding present from my grandma nearly 8 years ago. She couldn't make it to the wedding, but she sent a new vacuum cleaner right to our threshold. My husband literally had to move the package out of the way before he could carry me over said threshold. It was a bear of a vacuum cleaner, but it worked really well. Really, really well. My floors ended up spotless, even with the dog fur and the tracks of construction dirt. Plus, it was from my precious grandma, who died about two years into our marriage.
It was all downhill from there, though. The vacuum started to decline not long after my grandma passed away. If it was a pet, I would say it missed her presence, even though she only came to visit our house once. Still, it was bizarre, as if it knew the person who had given it a home was gone and it just didn't want to function right anymore. It wasn't terrible at the start. I'd just notice a speck of dust here, a bit of fur there, but I could always just pick it up and toss it away. No big deal.
But lately... this thing just doesn't work at all. Said specks of dust and bits of fir are everywhere even after I've vacuumed over the carpet multiple times. I feel like I'm letting grandma down tossing out her gift and getting a new vacuum cleaner, but on the other hand, she gave me said gift so I could keep my house clean, and now I can't keep my house clean. Maybe she would want me to get a new vacuum cleaner.
I guess it's time to suck it up and start doing some research. Figure out what brand, what it will cost, how to sell it to my husband... Although... now that I think about it... maybe it just needs a new filter.
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