Elvis has left the garage

Elvis costumeI remember going to an Elvis concert in Atlanta years ago. It was an experience I will never forget.

He looked quite spectacular in his tight, white silk bell bottom (now referred to as “boot cut”) pants, with the collar turned up on his matching white silk shirt. Of course, fringe ran all the way down the outside of his pants and the sleeves of the shirt and shimmered as he moved. The outfit was complete with gold chains layered around his neck, a wide belt with a flashy buckle, and big sunglasses that I’m sure he needed in order to see his captivated fans more clearly. He wore his signature Elvis cape and held a silk scarf that he wiped his brow with before he threw it into the audience. We were sitting so close to the stage that I just knew he looked right at me, wiggled those hips in true Elvis fashion, and smiled. Oh me, oh my…how I did sigh!

When Elvis left the stage, the traditional last words spoken in a deep voice from behind the curtain, said, “Elvis has l-e-f-t the building,” and then the lights went out. Sigh again…only the memory was left behind.

For years after that, anytime Bill and I went to a costume party, we always went as Elvis and Priscilla. Bill could not only imitate the Elvis mannerisms, but could sing in that same deep, charismatic voice. I, on the other hand, would be the swooning Priscilla, hanging on to every word in the song, and waiting for the scarf to be thrown to me. To add to our authenticity, friends had fun creating a real Elvis outfit from a resale store, polyester fabric for a cape and scarf, a black wig, oversized sunglasses, a huge macramé belt (formerly a wall hanging), and chains (that were used to hang plants) to wear around his neck. My black bell bottom pants and top, along with plastic jewelry, was also completed with a wig.

As the years went by, “Elvis” was packed away in a box, in our garage, with cherished memories of the fun and laughter Bill and I shared together.

Not long ago when cleaning out the garage, I came across the box marked, “Elvis”. I went through our costumes and recalled every crazy, wonderful memory they held. It was time to pass along the box to another couple who loved costume parties and would carry on the Elvis and Priscilla tradition in grand style.

Why am I telling you this story from the pages of my life? For this very reason:  Don’t miss the moment, my friends. Capture the memories of fun and laugher. Create traditions as a couple, or as a family. It’s never too soon, and it’s never too late, to make memories together. Start now.

One day, you’ll be like me when you’re going through an old box of memories. You’ll look back over the years and smile, and be ever so grateful the memories are left behind.

Susan Miller signature

An old bench filled with memories

the old bench

One of the sweet memories I have of my daddy many years ago, was sitting beside him on a hand-made, hand-painted bench in our back yard. He made it out of scraps of wood from his wood pile, and it has remained strong and steady for over 40 years. He built it with the skill of a fine carpenter, although he only referred to himself as a handyman around the house.

The weathered green bench sat in mom and dad’s back yard for many years. Anytime I came home to visit, I would watch from the kitchen window when daddy was raking the back yard, and wait for him to take a bench break, then I’d head for my spot next to him.

We would sit together and talk about anything—from the birds and the squirrels scampering around in our wooded back yard, to the rising cost of living, to how hot the weather was, to stories of the years he served in the military and what the Bible says about how to live life. My daddy was a quiet, gentle, soft-spoken man of few words. The bench seemed to spark magic conversation between us.

When mom and dad went home to be with the Lord many years ago, my brother and I sorted through the keepsakes we wanted. I took the bench. It traveled from Florida to Arizona, and sat on the front porch of three homes, and then finally ended up in the back yard, all the more weathered.

This summer, as I walked by the all-but-forgotten-bench, I stopped, and ran my hands across the rough surface. I sat down thinking that it might not hold me, but it held firm. The memories of sitting on it with my daddy, my husband, Bill, my children, and my grandchildren, flooded my heart and emotions.

stripping the paint

“It is time to restore this bench,” I said to myself. I became excited about stripping and sanding it, filling the holes with wood filler, nailing down any loose wood, re-painting it a different color, and adding a cushion for the finishing touch!

Moved to a special place, the old-but-new bench continues to spark conversation magic. I watch my daughter and my grandchildren find a spot to sit next to me, and then we talk about many things….

Five lessons learned from an old bench:

1. Seize the moment to sit awhile with someone you love.
2. Talk about lots of things—important and not so important.
3. Share stories and recall memories.
4. Listen and remember.
5. Never forget that something old can be a treasure, and sometimes, can be restored to new again.

finished bench

Susan Miller

 

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