Lighthouse Ornament

(circa 2015)
 
I stained the back deck and
painted front porch floor and railings for
my neighbor Richie’s mother in Hawthorne NJ.  
She was Italian, made dinner every Sunday for
her family, loved the NY Mets and went to
Church every day.
 
In front of the house under the deck was an
electrical outlet I plugged my hand sander into. 
The other outlet was connected to an electrical
line to the lawn ornament.
 
It was a four foot high Lighthouse, with a black
and white swirling pattern, with a light bulb in
the tower.  The Lighthouse was plugged into the
outlet but the outlet had no power.
 
Mrs. B. was watching an early afternoon Mets
game,  and I asked her if the outlet was broken. 
She said,  “No, the light switch inside the home
sent power to the outlet.”  She turned the inside
light switch on for me giving me power for the
hand sander and turning on the Lighthouse light.
 
When I went inside the home to take a short
lunch break,  Mrs. B. with a tear in her eyelI
said,  “I have not turned on the Lighthouse light
in over a year since my husband passed. 
He use to switch it on every night.  I have
not been able to turn it on since then.”
 
Paint covers a multitude of sins,  and power
tools sometimes help the grieving in their
healing process.