Memory Gardens

Donna and I were 24 years old when we got married.  A few months after we moved into a small third floor walk up in Arlington Heights, we got a call.  The fellow said “I would like to welcome you to the neighborhood and stop by and bring you a present.”  I looked at Donna and briefly explained.  She shrugged – “maybe it’s the ‘welcome wagon‘.”  I turned back to the phone.   “Sure” I said.  And we set up a time for him to visit.  A present.  Sounded nice. 

A week or so later there was a knock at the door and there stood this smiling chap holding a bag.  “May I come in?”  “Sure,” I said.  “May I sit down?”  “Sure.”  With that, he started telling us about how Donna and I needed to plan for the future.  The best thing that we could do for ourselves would be to plan for that day when we wouldn’t be around.  Donna and I looked at each other.  The fellow wanted to sell us plots — ideally a 6 pack — in Memory Gardens which was down the road.   “This is the best time to buy,” he said.  I guess they were having a sale. . . .

We did not buy plots that night – or any night.  But we did get the free – and to this day – incredibly memorable – gift.   Two tubes of Pringles potato chips.      

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