Echos From the Past

My weekend was turned upside down with a call from a friend.
"Hey, I just got back from an estate sale near Pinehurst and I think you need to hear about it."
She went on to tell me that the family of a deceased couple was selling to the walls and amongst the tagged items were several musical instruments. By 4:30 on Friday, Mabes, Donna, Mama, and I were piled in Mabes new Honda and heading south. I guess you could say we were all in one Accord. Sorry, I couldn't resist.

The adventure saw me headed home with a handmade mandolin - in immaculate condition. However, that is only part of the story. What struck me so undeniably, was the feeling that came over me as I walked around the home of the late couple. Now, I've been to many, many estate sales over the years ... but none that got to me quite like this one. Room by room their story began to come into focus. The walls were dotted with framed photographs and paintings of them separate and together - all engaging in different activities at home and abroad. She was a first generation Italian-American and he was a first generation South American-American. (How exactly do you say that correctly?) They looked like movie starts in their younger years. I purchased an 11x14 black and white of them decked out in their riding clothes. I saw their riding boots in the master bedroom and their saddles were in the garage. They had matching fencing attire, a slew of photography equipment and cameras, several unique acoustic instruments, bookshelves lined with language-tutorials and travel journals. The lady of the house had several fur stoles and wraps in the closet, along with a classic steamer-trunk she used for traveling.

Their lives seemed so real to me as I made my way from room to room. It appears as though they really lived life to its fullest. It would seem from the inventory that they not only enjoyed a very diverse array of activities ... but more importantly ... they enjoyed them together. What encouraging evidence to leave behind for those who would observe their relationship posthumously.

I will never know just how in love they were. I will never eat a meal with them or sit as they show the freshly developed photographs from their latest vacation. I will never watch as they comb their horses down after a late-afternoon ride, or laugh as they don their fencing suits and go at it with swords. No, I'll never get the opportunity to know them in the purest sense of the word
but ...
I did get to walk amongst all the memory-markers and imagine ...
and that was enough.

I hope that Mrs.Louise Menoiz would be happy to know that I respectfully took a little bit of her life back home with me to pass on to the next generation. The handmade mandolin, given to her for her 14th birthday in 1926, will provide our home with many moments of pleasure, music, and family. Those immortal qualities of life transcend the here and now and somehow provide me with a very tangible connection with the woman I never knew. There is something very authentic about this. I can't quite put my finger on it ... but it moves me. It is like getting a tiny glimpse of the grander script and how human lives touch and overlap in ways we don't even realize.

There seems to be something very spiritual about that ...
and the gift goes on ...

Brad on Diagnosis

It's Saturday ... and it's warm. Brad's soccer team had a double header today to make up for a rain out earlier in the season. He came off the field all red-faced and winded. He was so thankful when the coach said the game was over.
"THANK THE LORD!", bellowed from his mouth as he said goodbye to his buddies and headed for the car.
As we pulled out onto the highway, I said, "Boy, you must be tired. I've never seen you pass up Oreos before. Are you okay?"
He sat there a second and then said, "Well my stomach is hurting. Either I've got a cramp or I woke up on the wrong side of my bellybutton."

Summertime ... and the livin' is easy ...

Dental Flaws

Bradley has been going though the snagglepuss phase of life with some teeth in ... others out ... some on their way ... some not even budging. It's always a good look. His two top permanent teeth are fully grown in now and looking pretty dapper. However, both of the teeth on each side of the front ones are still missing.

Okay, Brad tends to brush his teeth like his hands are numb. He puts no elbow grease into the process whatsoever and I doubt that the plaque considers him much of a threat whatsoever. This is especially true in the mornings before school and at the height of Brad groaning about how sleepy he is and how he wants to go back to bed. I have always felt that the numb arm- brushing is his dramatic way of making his point with hopes that I will look at him and say, "Oh dear boy, you are obviously so tired that I shan't dare send you off to school. Please forgive me for waking you and by all means, go back to bed. School can wait." Consequently, those words have never fallen from my lips and aren't likely to any time soon.

The other day, we were in the middle of the morning ritual and I just couldn't stand it anymore. I looked at Brad and said, "Hand me that toothbrush. I cannot stand this sad display of oral hygiene any longer!" Shocked and perked up at the threatening sound of my voice, Brad reluctantly handed over his Spongebob Reach and I put one hand on his chin and took the brush with the other saying, "OPEN up!" With a gleam of complete terror in his eyes, Brad unhinged his jaw and let me in. I set to scrubbing those two Chicklets in the front and apparently in my zeal, I brushed on his gums where the new teeth haven't broken the surface yet.

Brad recoiled with a wince and those famous eyebrows furrowed. That, coupled with the frothy bubbles pouring from his mouth made him look a little like an angry Rottweiler. He spit and began rubbing his gums beside the front teeth. Then he looked up at me and said, "Gee mom, do you MIND ... these baby's ain't born yet!!!!"

Can you be reported for dental abuse? I was only trying to help ... ::nervous laughter::