Some times I get a little too verbose. Yesterday’s post is a good example. It wasn’t until late yesterday that I remembered what made me write all that soul-touching stuff. It was a handkerchief. A handkerchief I never got around to mentioning in the post.
This particular handkerchief once belonged to my ex-wife’s grandfather. I had never met the man (he had passed away a couple years before I met his granddaughter) but I know he was a good man. I know this because of the things people say about him and by the way his descendents and friends carry themselves. Jim was a proper southern gentleman whose memory is still mentioned with respect. Occasionally, I think of him when I pull out that handkerchief.
Washing it out in the sink the other day, I though “Why do I keep this thing?” It’s ripped – I don’t like using ripped things because I think it is a sign of disrespect towards oneself – and truly the handkerchief should be retired. But I don’t toss it out. I continue to use it because it caught a lot of snot from a good man and maybe some of his good nature is infused in its fibres. Even it the item is void of any residual energy, it helps to remind me to be a good man… albeit a little worn out in places, but still good to wipe a tear or two.
By the way, I carry a handkerchief because it’s a gentlemanly thing to do. Also, I carry it to wipe my brow – my head gets so hot sometimes my hair long ago decided it wasn’t needed and left for cooler climes (such as the shower drain). I do not use a handkerchief to blow my nose; I use a tissue for that. So, if I offer you my handkerchief, you can be assured it is clean and snot-free.
No comments:
Post a Comment