cutting the grass, and a eulogy for a refrigerator

I.

When I cut the grass, this is what I do: I take two beers from the fridge and put them in the freezer. We have a hill in my backyard, and I use an old mulch mower, so it can take awhile sometimes. Usually by the time I’ve finished, the beers are nice and frosty. Not just frosty, but nice and frosty.

Today when I was cutting the backyard I noticed my youngest son watching me out of the bedroom window. When he realized that I saw him he smiled. I waved at him, and he waved back, and I thought, I could get used to this.
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II.

Our refrigerator died a slow death. It was a good death, and we all had time to prepare for the end.

Sure there was a point where it couldn't freeze ice cubes anymore, and sure, we had to put the milk in the freezer to keep it slightly cold. But right up to the end it was still humming along, and whenever you opened the door the light came on.

Although we didn't spend alot of time with fridge--we just bought the house in December--we are reassured to know that its time was time well spent. It may not have always been everything we could've wanted, but it took care of the previous owner's perishable goods for quite a long time: that's no small feat.

So, wherever fridges go when they die, we hope it's a better place. We hope it's in a a place where the Ben and Jerry's can bend a spoon, and the Stout beers and chilled wines are respectively stout and chilled.

We also earnestly hope that no friend of Punky Brewster's is ever trapped inside of the old fridge while playing a game of hide and seek with friends. Things often don't turn out in real life the way they do in 80's sitcoms.

amen.