Narrow Way Cafe

Parents’ influence on children is profound

Mother passed away in December. (I wrote about that experience earlier, link here.1) Covid took her and her roomie. Survivors find the strength and time to sort through the belongings. My brothers and sister were heroic in this regard. I managed to inherit a few items (three I think, besides some photos.)

One of those items was a hand-pulled utility wagon she used in her yard. At the time, hauling the thing 1,000 miles home seemed a little weird. But the intention was utterly utilitarian. Today I learned otherwise.

Our place enjoys quite a few trees. Some evergreen pines and a mish-mosh of other deciduous species. Particularly troublesome is a weedy aldar-ish tree that grows and spreads by angling trunks outward, then waiting for the wind to finish their propagation scheme by knocking them to the ground. The downed branches and trunks then immediately sprout.

So we’re always picking up sticks. Having another wagon was convenient. I was doing this chore today. I was overfilling the wagon as usual, stacking things too high to not tip over.

And then, it was like my Mom was teaching me a new trick. I could almost hear her say “Honey, use one of those ‘ankle biter’ vines to tie up your load so it doesn’t fall off as you bump along.”

Duh! Why have I never thought of doing this before?

And then I realized that this is something she would have instantly done. Like many of the other things she taught her children. For instance, cooking small brook trout on willow sticks over the fire camping out on Alice creek. Anything to not wash dishes.

When Kristin’s Mother passed, we brought home “Gret’s Old Pail.” It’s still used every day and makes the most incredible, memory-rich sounds.

Here’s the sound of deep memories…