It has begun again. Appliances that have served me without complaint for years are dropping like flies. You may recall I experienced a mass failure of household appliances around December of ’09.
I will never forget that particular episode because it began just as my son rolled into emergency surgery in New Mexico. He suffered an attack of peritonitis and cheated death by a narrow margin. While the doctors worked to save his life, I was organizing a flight to the hospital and receiving new appliances. I received a new refrigerator, a new dishwasher and a new clothes washer at about same time. The deliverymen hauled the dead machines away. No one knows where.
On this past Sunday, the last holdout, the old clothes drier went toes up. I made a quick trip to Home Depot for a replacement. It showed up yesterday. Today, I am back in the laundry business. Now, I can launder a few shirts while I wait for the dead battery in my truck, which I discovered yesterday evening, to either charge or melt. I am seriously wondering, “Who or what is next?”
I study other items around the house, trying to identify any suspicious noises or other indication of an imminent demise. You know, electrical sparks, oil leaking onto the floor, grinding noises and such. So far, I have found nothing.
The major difference this time around is I do not care. My children and grandchildren are nearby and in good health. At least no one has called to tell me anything different. As far as I am concerned, it can rain broken appliances; the house could burn, and the wreckage be swallowed by the Earth. I would not bat an eye, so long as my loved ones are safe and well.
I suppose I will be reminded of how blessed I am every time some electro-mechanical servant quits or bursts into flames. I will be reminded how unimportant such things are and feel profound gratitude for those I cherish above all else. A drier and battery are a small price to pay for renewed appreciation of all life has brought me.
