Contact Your Medicare Life Coach Today

Monday Through Friday | 8AM - 8PM (CST) Saturday By Appointment Only

The Waffle Iron

Today, I happened upon an Estate Sale.  I entered this stranger’s home respectfully, and with some trepidation.  I was curious to see what treasures there would be for sale, but at the same time feeling reluctant at the thought of scrounging through someone’s personal belongings.  The items on display were an indication of two elderly people’s lives that no longer needed “things.”  There were obvious signs of age and illness by the accumulation of medical devices such as a wheelchair, and various healthcare aids that were recently needed for apparently frail, aging bodies.  The faded paint on a mug that read “World’s Greatest Grandpa” tugged at my heart. 

My eye caught another item in their kitchen that I’d actually been recently shopping for:  it was a waffle iron.  While the new models are sleek and streamlined, they don’t have the option we wanted of removable trays…but this one did.  I opened it to find the original manual still included with a handwritten date of when it was probably received as a gift.  It was dated November 1956.  It was 65 years old!  Unbelievable. I held in my hand a remarkable device unlike any appliance made today.  How many of us can claim they own anything that old? I plugged it in to see if it still heated and it eagerly sprang to life. The smell of old oil filled the room causing one of the other bargain shoppers to jokingly ask “what cha’ cookin’?”  I rummaged in my wallet for the mere $8 they were asking for it, and gladly handed it over to the attendant of the estate sale. 

 I began to ponder about how many memories of all the times the family probably gathered around it on Sunday mornings. The aroma of fresh baked batter wafting in the air, whilst the news of the absurdity of the price of gas going up to 22 cents a gallon or Elvis singing his new hit “Heartbreak Hotel” came crackling in over the radio.  I imagined these conversations that must have centered around this simple device, a beacon of warm, inviting scents that drew the family together.  How many generations it must have fed.  So many stories, I’d never know, but I’m glad to give it a new home now with new memories to make and the smell of fresh waffles baking once again in my home.  Just a simple device, for a simple meal from a simpler time. Pass the syrup, please.