The other day someone asked me why I keep a rusty old jar opener in the gadget drawer in my kitchen. She was probably expecting a short answer. She should have known better.
That jar opener may not look like much, but it means a lot to me. My mother gave it to me the day I left home. As I was packing up my stuff, getting ready to leave the nest, I must confess I had a bit of a panic attack. My mom came in and asked me what was wrong.
“I just thought of something. What if I’m all alone and trying to cook and I can’t open a jar?”
My mother knew what I really meant. What if I can’t make it by myself? What if a problem comes up that I can’t solve? What if I screw up? What if I starve to death? What if I’m not ready to be on my own?
She went into the kitchen and got the jar opener, came back in and put it in my suitcase. “You’re going to be fine. And if you need me, I’ll be here.”
Sometimes a jar opener is just a jar opener. But sometimes it isn’t.
The View from a Drawbridge 
That was sweet.
Would that a jar opener could solve all my problems.
It can only solve 32 of them…
You’ve counted. How cute.
After that you need one of the modern rubber circle ones.
Aren’t you the methodical one. 🙂
I just like problems solved and jars opened… is that too much to ask???
Word.
Ha…