A Sad Story:

Late yesterday afternoon Mother and I left the house to buy some vegetables for dinner.
Earlier Dad had seen, on his way home, that someone had moved out of their house so that their furniture and belongings had been dumped on the sidewalk for people (like us) to take.
Mum and I were told that since we were on our way to the shop we might as well have a look at the things that had been thrown out.
-This is when I realised all over again that Dad is capable of embarrassment, perhaps even shame.
Arriving at the heap we first looked over the pile, then Mother boldly knocked on the door of the house, and having no reply she asked a lady from the next house if the things were indeed being thrown away.

After 40 minutes of Mother talking with the lady, quite a bit of information will now be in our brains for a long while.

A tradgedy had befallen the owners of this house. They were a couple, the woman was in her forties and her husband in his seventies. They also had a 17 year old son named Jason.
The woman was a carer to her elderly husband before she had recently been discovered to have a large growth in her brain. She had decided to have the operation, though she wasn't expected to live through it.
She did live but one half of her body is now paralyzed. Of course she can no longer care for her husband as she now needs care herself. So we presume both have moved into some kind of institution.

Also while we were there came a young boy, he wanted from the neighbor lady the phone number of Jason this couple's 17 year old son. -It is now that we suppose they are friends.

Now at that point I began to think(before that I was just listening);
What if I were Jason, suddenly my parents both live in a spoon feeding institution. I no longer can live at my home of 14 years. Where do I go?

And all this happened to real people a few houses away from us.


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When it was dark, Dad drove the van around the corner to the house, we were gone two minutes.
When we came back Dad had a microwave and an electric kettle. He spent the next while cleaning both.
I had brought back a long cushioned box. I hadn't realised before that the box was quite full of things that looked like more trash.
Tammy, Cherish and I straightway began digging through it looking for valuables. We found birthday cards with childrens handwriting, 'Happy Birthday Daddy, From Jason'.

My Mum has a collection of things that we gave her, drawings, cards and such. What would I think if they were dumped in a box on the sidewalk. God knows what I'd think if I knew that strangers would be digging in it -namely strangers called Tammy and Cherish.

My reason for writing this is to remind myself that sad things happen to many people, just not me. And since I am that blessed I should hug Father and Mother more.