I grew up with practical parents -- a Mother, God love her, who washed
aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original
recycle queen, before they had a name for it...

A Father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived
barely a wave away. I can see them now.

It was the time for fixing things -- a curtain rod, screen door, the oven door,
the hem in a dress. Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy.

All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful.

Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd
always be more.

But then my Mother died, and on that clear summer's night, in the
warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning
that sometimes there isn't any 'more.'

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes
away...never to return.

So...while we have it...it's best we love it.....and care for it.....and fix it
when it's broken....and heal it when it's sick.

This is true.....for marriage.....and old cars.....and children with bad report
cards.....and dogs with bad hips.....and aging parents.....and grandparents.

We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

Some things we keep.

Like a best friend that moved away -- or -- a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know
who are special.... .and so, we keep them close!