The Machine Was Broken

The machine was broken.

Things were falling apart in a haphazard way that made it hard to tell exactly what was wrong, but it was clear that things weren’t right.

We tried doing nothing and pretending that there wasn’t anything amiss, but that didn’t help.

We attempted to tweak things slightly without being too aggressive. Just to see if that might work.

“Can’t be this. Couldn’t be that. Try a little of this. Or a lot more of that.” we said.

When all that didn’t work, we eventually started a thorough diagnostic process. Testing for this, measuring that. Gradually eliminating all the easy things that might be fixed.

None of it worked. No solution was found.

We finally resorted to asking someone to get right in there to take a good look. An expert. A specialist.

“Oh dear” they said. “That’s no small problem in there. Merely tinkering won’t help.”

So, it was something big. Significant. Not a small thing after all, as everyone had hoped.

Now we understood that this job was going to require some heroics. Many hours would be spent. This was tough stuff, indeed.  But we were good, hard workers. It would be ok because we were strong.

We went to great lengths to ensure everything reasonable was attempted to get that machine back to specs. We diligently replaced parts. We even used strong chemicals to see if we could fix what was broken. We worked incredibly hard.  

Now don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t all tough toiling. There were a few joys and successes along the way before that machine finally gave out. Moments of hope and glory. We polished her up. We got her looking pretty good at a certain point in time. We thought perhaps we could beat the odds with this machine of ours.

For instance, there were numerous trips to Costco for hot dogs and ice cream sundaes. And once, that machine made it all the way downtown so that a 7 year old child could experience the ballet for the very first time. When that happened, the machine just sparkled. She practically glowed. That was a beautiful sight.

And during those moments, there were smiles and cheers and hopes for victory punctuating all the hard work and misery going on behind the scenes.

But underneath all of it, there was still no denying that this machine was not working right. Could not be made new. Or for that matter, even be made to get through another month or week or day. And finally, it was decided by everyone who knew, and even those who didn’t really know, that this machine just could not be fixed.

We were at the end of the road. There was nothing that anyone could do.

So, we all gathered around and thanked that machine for her love and her caring and for her lengthy heroics to repair herself. She finally took one last breath and that miraculous machine just shut down from the disease that broke her. Our mom was gone.