Death of a Toaster

It's a new year. A new month. There is a glorious, wonderful expectant feeling in the air.

THIS YEAR...THINGS ARE GOING TO BE DIFFERENT!

And boy howdy...that, my friends...is true. I'm not pyschic...but I know that I can say that sentence above with confidence. You, regardless of age, race, religion, gender, education, experience, dog person, cat person...

Your year, my friend...THIS YEAR...THINGS ARE GOING TO BE DIFFERENT.

Write it on your calendar. Stencil it on your wall in your kitchen. Make it a scrolling marquee on your computer screen saver. Scrapbook it. Whatever.

It's a fact.

The question is not...will this year be different? The question is: How will I handle the changes?

It was October, 1986. I was a freshman in college at Millikin that fall. Talk about change! I had a 'new home' in a dorm room, a 'new roommate' from the Chicago area that I was still trying to get to know, new classes, new teachers (oh, wait...they're PROFESSORS now!), new friends were being made. That fall EVERYTHING was new! Everything was different. It was a little overwhelming...but I was really trying to see the positive side of things.

And then my Grandma Sybil died. Suddenly.

Something different. Something new. Something unexpected.

I went home for the funeral. I thought I was handling things pretty well. I mean, as well as one handles the death of a grandparent. I read her last letter to me several times. I remembered the wonderful times we'd had at her house as kids. All 'typical' or 'classic' mourning stuff.

Then my Dad called to tell me that they were cleaning out Grandma's apartment and was there anything I wanted furniture wise?

Yes! Yes there was! Two things. A round table(George Washington style, I think...is what Antiques Roadshow calls it) and her toaster.

Her magic toaster.

As a child, staying overnight at Grandma Sybil's was just about the best thing in the world. She made us milkshakes...and played Pollyanna with us...and Seven Up...and made us watch Lawrence Welk.

It was a blast! And mornings were amazing! Because of the magic toaster!

This toaster was different from every other toaster I'd seen in my seven years of life. This toaster DIDN'T HAVE A BUTTON! There was no button to push down! You set a piece of bread into the slot...and it sank gracefully, noiselessly down...out of sight...and then, as you waited in anticipation...toast would slowly appear...rising out of the heat of the machine silently. No dinging sound...no jumpy toast. Just....magic toast.

Excellent with some Skippy peanut butter and a glass of milk.

So I got that table and toaster. And for 22 wonderful years...I've been watching toast rise out of that machine...and I have to say:

I still think of it as a magic toaster! It, to this day, still causes me to behave in a somewhat childlike fashion. I'll actually stand there and watch the bread sink down...and wait....and watch toast rise up!

Well, I did. Until Christmas Eve. That's when I...killed the toaster.

I guess, looking back, I should be glad that it wasn't a bigger fire and all. I lit a pastry thing on fire in the toaster...and now it doesn't work anymore.

I know. It's a stinkin' toaster, Carrie. GET OVER IT!

Here's the thing: the past couple of weeks, I've been really down about it. And I think it's because of a couple of things. One, I'm struggling with the fact that I'm missing my toaster...and two: part of me has felt that by having the toaster work...having it 'be alive' so to speak...that Grandma was still 'alive'. I mean, I know she's not...perhaps I'm not explaining that well.

So what have I learned? I am grieving all over again. Mourning. Because it's different in my kitchen now. I have a different toaster. And while I fully appreciate it for what it is...it isn't magic. Something's missing.

Acceptance is hard. And just yesterday, I talked to someone who thinks that maybe...they can fix the old toaster.

But you know what? Part of me doesn't want that. Part of me thinks that it's TIME for a change. That I need to have a new toaster now. I'm old enough to handle it.

I am keeping the Magic Toaster. It's on top of my kitchen cabinet with some other antiques. It is...a part of me. Even if it is a simple kitchen appliance.

I'm sure most of us have things like my toaster around us.

Change is hard. Different isn't always a good thing.

But attitude, my friends...attitude is everything. I know, for a fact, that Magic Toaster or not...I am still the same goofy gal I've been.

Wait, maybe I'm not. Maybe I AM different! In fact, by losing my toaster...I understand loss better. So my loss might help me to understand your loss.

If the things in our lives didn't experience change...we wouldn't grow.

That's what makes toasters amazing in the first place! They change bread, right??!!

Time to eat some breakfast. Let me know what's different in your 2009...