Joe the Landscaper & my truck

Ugh. It's been hot lately. Really hot. The kind that makes even those of us who love summer a bit cranky. Leaving work after a long today, I was hot and sweaty and just wanted to go home and take a shower and try to cool off. Get in my truck, put the key in the ignition and turn and...nothing. It's dead. Really? I walk up to a group of my partners in the middle of their team meeting and fill them in on what's going on. One of them has pair of jumper cables, but doesn't know how to use them. I think I have a pair of cables, but am not too sure. One has a good car and is willing to help, but has no idea how to use the cables. This is going to be fun. At this point I look around and ask if it isn't time for Joe to come back? Joe is a morning regular customer at the Starbucks store where I work. He usually comes around around 5 a.m. before work and comes back again in the afternoon to study for school. He works doing the landscaping at a local golf course. He seems like the kind of guy who will know how to jump start a car.

At one point Colleen and I decide we are going to try this on our own. I find a pair of cables in my car and pull them out thankful there are instructions on them. Her and I look them over laughing as we try to figure out which ones go where and in what order. My old eyes are having a hard time adjusting to the small print and I ask if I can go get my reading glasses. It is the blind leading the blonde here and I am not too sure we are going to be successful. It's hot and we're both tired and, in between giggles, I am pondering how it is that I am 39 years old and have no idea how to jump start a car. I've always been impressed that I usually carry a pair around, but have somehow escaped the need to use them.

Finally, Colleen notes that Joe has indeed returned to our store and decides she needs to go get him. He comes out with her lauging at the spectacle of two of his regular Starbucks Baristas trying to figure this out. We might be able to make a great cup of coffee, but mechanics we are not. Thankfully, Joe knows what he is doing and after a couple of tries my old truck starts right up.

You know, we might have figured it out eventually. Or my husband might have made the 20 minute drive from Castle Rock to rescue me. But I was thankful that I didn't have to wait much longer on such a long, hot day to go home. Thankful that there are people like Joe willing to take a few minutes out of the end of their day to lend a hand. Even if the hand he lent came along with a few laughs at our expense.

Two things I promise after this....Joe will not need to pay for his next couple cups of coffee as they are on me and I promise to learn how to use those cables!

This week I said goodbye to my parents' house. The last house they lived in together. My mom died almost 4 years ago from colon cancer. I should have seen it coming, but I could never accept the fact that my mom was sick. Really sick. She was positive to the end and really held on to the hope of a miracle. She had also kept how serious it was from me. She knew she was terminal, but never said those words to me.

My mom had a gift with making a home a haven. A warm, welcoming place where all felt accepted and at home. They moved in to this house when I was starting up my own right before my 12-yr old daughter was born. She took this house, a renovated duplex and lifted away the depressing, 70's veneer and added her own special touch. They lived under construction for weeks while she had new carpet put in, walls painted, and the kitchen opened up and remodeled. Once it was finally put together, an appraisal of the house proved her efforts to be worthwhile. My dad grumbled over all the money she was putting into this house, but even he was impressed when they were told they had hugely increased the value of the house.

There are so many memories of this house in the seemingly sort time they lived there. This was the place I brought my daughter every day while I was at work her first 2 years. She was the first grandchild to come into that home. Four more would follow from her kids. There were showers, parties, dinners, and, finally, a wake. This house watched her celebrate and it watched her die.

Of course, my dad would move on. It was too big for just him and he always wanted to live out on the plains. He waited for a bit to help make the transition easier on us kids, and I'm sure on himself.

I know those memories will never go away and there are plenty of pictures to help us re-live them. But, it's so wierd to think there will never be another home to call my parents' home. It will always be Dad's place now. Time to start making memories there.