A Connection

For years our small deck felt cramped, especially with privacy panels on either end. When the condo association , prodded on by the age of the development,decided to replace all the decks, we chose to pay an additional sum and expand the size of our deck.

Even before the last piece of railing fell into place we had bought a new outdoor broom.

As soon as I note a small collection of leaves I wield the broom across the deck corralling whatever is in my path. Everything is swept into a pile and then with a golf swing the pile is sent beneath the railings into the backyard.

My parents were in their sixties when they bought their first home, a two bedroom condo. My mother selected a shag rug for the living room and dining room. The first time I visited I noted an odd looking rake in the corner of their bedroom. Just staring at the long handled implement drew forth an explanation from my father.

"That's a shag rug rake to groom the rug."

"If you use a vacuum it will lose its distinctness and flatten down."

Every day my father took the rake to the carpet.

Until they bought that green shag I don't think my father ever did more than a perfunctory job of pushing a carpet sweeper, but now he raked with quiet determination until every strand stood up straight.

As I swept the fallen leaves off the deck I thought of my father raking and then sitting down with a book, reading and glancing at his groomed shag.

With the release of a memory a connective link...