Gathering

 There was a meeting of the tribe a few days back. We convened, as we used to back in the day, on our back deck. Some of the hands that constructed that architectural wonder were in attendance, as were friends from across the town and across the globe. We ate, we drank, and we talked.

And talked. 

We talked about the way things are now. Where we were finding joy and where we were finding stress. We talked about those who were not able to make this meeting, and what we imagined they might be up to currently. Then the subject turned to where we all live. 

We all live not just in houses with maintenance that has ramped up considerably since we moved in, but in carcasses that have suffered from the time spent avoiding the upkeep that might have kept them from being as vital as they used to be. We talked about aging. 

For every window that needs a new screen there was a joint or a blood vessel that needed some attention. I spoke of how we had recently taken on the help of a robot to vacuum our floors and how the baker's cyst on the back of my right knee has become as big a part of my life as the Roomba. On the edge of all the food, we chatted about what we can't eat anymore and why. We talked about energy drinks that wouldn't mess up that necessary sleep at the end of the day. We talked about appliances and how they don't make them like they used to anymore.

We avoided making the necessary connection between ourselves and the objects with which we live. Nobody seemed to notice when I made reference to my son and when he used to fit in a little basket, even though his adult frame was sitting right next to me. History might be written by the victors, but it is more surely written by the survivors. 

I have outlived a few vacuum cleaners. I can spin amusing tales about the kidney stones I have endured, but I cringe at the notion of ever having to do it again. We love the paint job on our house, but we can already see the cracks and bubbles that will need a little help before the next rainy season comes. And under our feet, we noticed the screws on the deck that we had so carefully countersunk once upon a time were starting to creep up. Just a bit. 

Somebody really ought to take a look at that.