Life is the hazy setting of the sun. Just like the sun disappears behind beautiful mountain landscapes so does memories. A home in Utah succumbs to old age and pipes burst. Left alone to the destruction of time and visited after a four months absence; the residue of destruction:sitting water, mold and mildew collapse the ceiling and it shows its ugly path of loss.
Fifty years of love and affection are gone; destroyed forever, those first love letters you sent your girlfriend at the age of seventeen. Those precious words you wrote in a note bestowing your love of your wife of forty-two years; gone in a flash to the basement of your mind. Your wife was a collector of memories, a sorceress Of sentimentality. Kept neatly away in an old chest, laying on the bedroom floor in front of our bed; School yearbooks of our high school years with passages neatly enscribed below pictures. A history of my sport years put in scrap books,meticulously recorded in scrapbooks made by my ingenious young girlfriend. Gone are the nights by the fireplace looking through our memorabilia reminiscing about our misspent youth.
A nineteen-thirty-eight Philco Floor Radio, my lovely wife found at a Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor is lost to water damage. She found it on a window display for sale for seventy -five dollars; it looked old, tarnished, the speaker was torn, the cover ripped out of the front and the vacuum tubes were bad. My wife took it to our neighbor, a retired house painter who built miniature houses as a hobby. He replaced the old electrical parts with original vacuum tubes, wires, etc. and produced a beautiful radio with its original police radio design. Meticulously varnished, sanded and varnished again and made anew, refurbished nineteen-thirty-eight Philco floor radio we kepted for forty odd years, gone in nature’s wrath.
I mourned the loss of my memories and decided to begin new memories and not worry about a loss of memories. Life must go on, to be enjoyed, not saddened on memories lost. My old collection of black vinyl is gone: A nineteen-sixty-four Beatles album with the singers autographs are lost, but I have their music on this I pad. I remember playing our record player for hours as I hugged my young wife of forty some odd years and I smile realizing what a great life we had together. Not all is lost, is it? Memories will always remain a constant pleasure. Pura Vida! Press the link below for my bookstore:
i never get tired of writing about you
remembering those beautiful baby blues
or your perfectly short cut hair
and your sparkling angry stare
when you gave me an indignant dare
or how you would laugh when i wiggled my ears
or how you cheered during my football years
how you showed patience during my tough times
your love was never hard to find
your love makes me strong
it gives me strength when things go wrong
i work at living up to your life
after all is said and done
you were my perfect wife
i was lucky you were the one
thank you for picking me.”
Odes to Life and Love
Timothy M. Nugent
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