The thread on the WII machette put me in a reflective mood. On the shelf next to my PC are a couple of items that you would look at and wonder why those pieces of junk are there.
The first is an ancient, scarred claw hammer with a red wooden handle wrapped in black electricians tape. Two years before his death, my father handed it to me and explained that it had belonged to my grandfather who had provided for his family many years with that hammer. He was a subsistence farmer/carpenter/jack of all trades. What dad didn't say, but that I know, was that dad also used that hammer, adding gradually to what was originally a two-room frame house as each of me and my two sisters came along. He did it all, from laying foundations to roofing. The only help he ever had was from a couple of friends in the cotton mill who helped with wiring and plumbing. He built it from a two room shack with a privy out back to a nice four bedroom, living room, den, kitchen, indoor bathroom, home, using that same hammer. He was of the WWII generation with some physical limitations from WWII that he barely let slow him down, who would have scoffed at the idea that the government should tax someone else give to him. To me that hammer represents a heritage that is valuable beyond any money or land that he would have left if he had possessed any.
The second is a small, badly faded poreclain coffee cup. After my in-laws died, I was asked if I wanted to keep anything from their meager household. I chose the cup.
For some reason I was a favorite of my MIL and FIL. Often on deer season weekends a brother-in-law and I would go hunting together. He would arrange to pick me up, usually about 4:30 or so. MY FIL, who was in poor health and did not hunt, would invariably wake me about 3:45 with a very nice breakfast and coffee ready for me and the BIL. For some reason I got in the habit of always using that particular old orange cup. I later learned that my BIL liked for me to go hunting with him, because if I was not going my FIL would stay in bed. The old cup reminds me of my FIL and those hunting trips. (The fact that I value it also earns major points with my wife.
)
I will be positioned to leave more substantial financial assets than these men ever could. However, I hope that I will also leave some objects that invoke some good memories of me. Busse knives for sure. Maybe some firearms. But whatever I leave will have a hard time matching that old hammer and coffee cup.
The first is an ancient, scarred claw hammer with a red wooden handle wrapped in black electricians tape. Two years before his death, my father handed it to me and explained that it had belonged to my grandfather who had provided for his family many years with that hammer. He was a subsistence farmer/carpenter/jack of all trades. What dad didn't say, but that I know, was that dad also used that hammer, adding gradually to what was originally a two-room frame house as each of me and my two sisters came along. He did it all, from laying foundations to roofing. The only help he ever had was from a couple of friends in the cotton mill who helped with wiring and plumbing. He built it from a two room shack with a privy out back to a nice four bedroom, living room, den, kitchen, indoor bathroom, home, using that same hammer. He was of the WWII generation with some physical limitations from WWII that he barely let slow him down, who would have scoffed at the idea that the government should tax someone else give to him. To me that hammer represents a heritage that is valuable beyond any money or land that he would have left if he had possessed any.
The second is a small, badly faded poreclain coffee cup. After my in-laws died, I was asked if I wanted to keep anything from their meager household. I chose the cup.
For some reason I was a favorite of my MIL and FIL. Often on deer season weekends a brother-in-law and I would go hunting together. He would arrange to pick me up, usually about 4:30 or so. MY FIL, who was in poor health and did not hunt, would invariably wake me about 3:45 with a very nice breakfast and coffee ready for me and the BIL. For some reason I got in the habit of always using that particular old orange cup. I later learned that my BIL liked for me to go hunting with him, because if I was not going my FIL would stay in bed. The old cup reminds me of my FIL and those hunting trips. (The fact that I value it also earns major points with my wife.
)I will be positioned to leave more substantial financial assets than these men ever could. However, I hope that I will also leave some objects that invoke some good memories of me. Busse knives for sure. Maybe some firearms. But whatever I leave will have a hard time matching that old hammer and coffee cup.
:thumbup:
