This is Meatmobile II. It’s supposed to be in the garage, but Rich parked it on the street last night, so it’s the first thing I saw today when I opened the back door.
This is the kitchen table. As I came back through the door, it was the first thing I saw.
The connection between these two objects is one word: GENEROSITY
Rich’s parents haven’t been with us for several years now, and not a day goes by that they aren’t thought of in some way. They were two of the most generous people I have ever known. Mom would give you the coat off of her back if you needed it, and dad would probably give you everything down to his underwear, and maybe even that if you truly needed it.
Our house was a lot of space to fill when we were first married. Over the years, Rich’s mom and dad helped us fill the empty spaces. They gave us their sofa, coffee table, and end tables when they purchased new. A refrigerator, an upright freezer, dressers, and book shelves came our way – even a furnace when they bought a new one.
We had a scary, behemoth of a furnace in the basement, and it was very cool having a “spare furnace” on hand when it finally died.
They gave us a beautiful, pecan wood dining table with matching chairs. We used it for many years, but we gave it away to a family of ten when Dad gave us the smaller kitchen table and chairs you see in the picture.
Vehicles were another story. After Mom passed, Dad eventually dated another woman and spent several years with her. When our son needed a car, Dad bought this woman’s car and gave it to our son. It always had a faint smell of meat. I don’t know what kind of meat. It was as though an old salami had gone under the back seat to die at some time. I nicknamed the car the Meatmobile, and it stuck.
After Dad passed, he left his car to us. It’s the car in the picture above. I don’t know if it came to us with a missing hubcap or if Rich lost it somewhere along the way. It vaguely smelled like meat, too, and I can’t help but wonder what perfume Dad’s friend wore, or if she made it herself from essence of salami. I deemed the car Meatmobile II.
My mother used to love going on one day bus trips. It had been quite a while since she had been on one, so Rich and I made up a flyer for Meatmobile Tours, and we planned our own day trip using Meat Mobile II. It was a Saturday in December a few years ago, and we took my mother to the A Christmas Story House in Cleveland, followed by a late lunch at a café/pub in Peninsula. We shopped at several of the town’s small shops, and finished our day trip at Blossom Music Center for their drive-thru Christmas light display. It was a fantastic day.
I haven’t participated in the WordPress Daily Challenges for a while, but when I saw this one, I knew I wanted to tell this story. Mom and Dad were wonderful people, and their generosity knew no bounds.
Before I close, I want to share one more story of generosity that happened just a few hours ago. Rita Kay at Teaching David to Cook gives helpful cooking and gardening tips on her blog. She has been reading my books, and she delights me so much as she finishes one and tells me how much she enjoyed the story. She has generously taken time from her usual blogging topics to devote a post to my books and my blog. I am truly honored, and I’m still smiling. If you would drop by her blog, read what she wrote, and leave a like, I would be appreciative, and I’m sure she would, too. Please consider following Rita Kay while you are there. She is one of the kindest people I have met since blogging, she is generous, and her comments always make me smile.
Leave a comment before you go! Share a generosity story of your own – or a meatmobile story.
(WordPress Daily Prompt: Take Two – Run outside. Take a picture of the first thing you see. Run inside. Take a picture of the second thing you see. Write about the connection between these two random objects, people, or scenes.)