I think I pay too much attention to random things. Okay, okay, I know I pay too much attention to random things. One thing that gets me is radio commercials. I can totally tune out a tv commercial, by never watching tv, but the radio has to be on for me to function. It is like air to me. But the dumb commercials. You’ve already heard my thoughts on the exercise/antidepressant commercial, now for the COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) commercial.
This commercial brings up lots of memories, wonderful memories. Really. Stick with me here.
I was exposed to a component of COPD as a kid. My neighbor had Emphysema. She had never smoked a day in her life, yet there she was, dependent on oxygen.
Cora was probably in her 60s when I met her. She lived a few doors down from us in her white house that looked like a barn.
I headed down there once or twice a week to buy a dozen of her farm-fresh chicken eggs. And she would chat with me.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved being an only child and I had great neighbor friends that I played with, but I was always looking for new company…and Cora was one of my victims.
She always bought wrapping paper from me when I came around selling it in order to earn some prize or another. She helped me (okay, she basically did) with a sewing project that was well beyond my non-existent skills, she sold my mom her old secretary desk that sat proudly in my room until I went to college, she explained to me that the ice cream man, (Schwan’s) who finally extended his route to our part of the road, would have the ice cream my mom let me order that day and I wouldn’t have to wait another two weeks until he came again. She let me just show up and chat with her for hours. We would sit and watch soap operas, which my mom did not allow me to watch, and I would chat and chat at the commercial breaks.
I loved Cora very much. I was so sad when she passed away when I was in late elementary school–I am not exactly sure how old I was when she passed away. I missed her daily for a long time. I just couldn’t believe my friend was gone. My mom decided I was too young to go to the funeral, but I understood my friend was gone. I sat and sat at her old desk.
And I still think of my friend often–anytime I hear one of the COPD commercials or when another friend posts on Facebook about their chickens (what is up with everybody getting chickens?!).
Cora is just one of the marvelous memories I have from growing up. I hope my girls will look back as fondly at the memories we make amidst holidays, electronics, new puppies and the like!
Survive til you Thrive!