So I’m stuck at home on the sofa, convalescing. (I know, right? Still. Oh, sigh). Tell you what, I am bone weary of television.
But there are life lessons to be gleaned, even from daytime TV. Yesterday’s episode of Chasing Classic Cars delivered a stunner. In it Wayne Carini, host of the show, purchased a 1960 Chevrolet Impala from a widow. Her husband had bought it in 1981 and parked it reverently in the garage. The car was never driven again.
For decades this beautiful car sat covered up and waiting. All original, with perfect paint and chrome and very low miles. A convertible, for crying out loud! Heck, I’d be loading up my friends and heading for the beach!
Because a car is made for driving.
Oh, this couple enjoyed their Impala. The widow explained, with misty eyes, how she and her husband would sit in the front seat and talk, sometimes for hours. Her husband was sentimental; he’d bought this particular car because they’d had one when they first were married. He cleaned it and ran the engine from time to time. But take it out for a drive? That would decrease its value.
The husband was not a stingy man, merely prudent. And now it was left for his widow to sell. (Wayne Carini later took her for her first—and last—joyous ride in it.) As I was shaking my head, a thought occurred. What have I got tucked away in my garage? Not my real garage, but my writing garage? Ouch.
What treasures do I have that are hidden away? Half-finished stories, that’s what. Some of them are not too shabby. What am I saving them for? For “later”?
Because stories are made for sharing with readers.
This week for the first time I’m feeling more “normal” than ever. I can move about the house without being worn out or wobbly. I can read without becoming tired and losing interest. I guess these things mean that it’s time to do more than lie around. In fact, this blog post represents my timid return to daily writing. And I’m celebrating. Besides, it’s not worth it to wait for “later.”