My whatever has a hole in it

Somebody has dubbed Saturday, May 30 as "My Bucket's Got a Hole in It Day." I just checked all my buckets around the house, and they're all hole-free. Hmm, I think this one dates back to those metal bucket days when the bottoms would rust out.

So, I thought of other things that might have holes in them. One of my stuffed animals, Mr. Moo, has a leak in a seam and is leaking some of those tiny foam beads. Need to sew him up if I could find the sewing basket. Is that what it's called? It's been so long since I've referred to it by name that I've forgotten. Obviously, sewing is not my specialty.

Then I got to thinking about holes in other places …

I've heard recently of a friend's grandbaby who has a hole in his heart that needs the surgeon's hands to repair something so tiny that the typical sewing needle would cause more damage than good.

I thought of two high school classmates who are now slowly mending the holes in their emotional hearts, one after losing her son and another after losing her husband. Not even the most skilled surgeon and seamstress in the world could repair those holes. It takes the love and understanding of family and friends who must remember to listen and offer an embrace for a long time after the formal good-byes because that's the only way the human heart can heal.

I thought of dear friends who battle new holes in their everyday lives as they watch Alzheimer's steal a little more of their loved ones with every turn of the calendar page. This is a void that seems to widen daily, and that's why they need many helping hands to help bridge that cavern that can leave caregivers abandoned.

I thought of the individuals I've met who are trying to bridge the "holes" in memory, speech, physical ability, personality and much more when combatting the cruel effects of stroke, brain injuries, brain tumors and brain cancer. They and their caregivers, too, need a patient circle of family and friends who won't give up on them and leave bigger holes in support when they need it most.

And then I thought of people who must have some kind of hole in their common sense. You know, the family members and friends who suddenly develop amnesia when someone needs some assistance to get through one of the aforementioned or other serious life challenges. And those people who never think before they speak … Don't get me started.

And me? What part of my life has a hole in it? Nothing much right now though Mr. Moo is beginning to leave a trail of little white pellets everywhere I take him. And the hole in my memory where I put that sewing whatever …