Saturday Morning, March 21, 2026

The Torch I Carry is Handsome

Please, come to me. A frail voice called out. The young man followed the request, winding his way through wires and tubes, all screaming beeps and buzzes. Trip wires and briars. Before him lay his grandfather, pounds past his former self. The cancer had done its due diligence, the medical equipment its. Now it was a fight between them to the end. Time the only variant.

Mexican Aladdin Lamp cigar lighter, 2¼" H.

Grandpa, cried the young man. How he loved this man. His kindness. His generosity. Now this? Why? Grandpa raised his hand. Please Alexander, no words. Too precious to waste. A coughing fit broke his thoughts. Grandpa! Another raised palm. Under the bed, that old duffle bag. Alexander crouched down, then reaching beneath the metal bed, felt a sailor-cloth sack. He dragged it out and stood up, studying the material. Dirt worn into the fabric landscaped a life filled with adventure. There were stories in each crease, each stain. Grandma hated this bag, never wanted it in the house. If she only knew. He laughed, his wrinkled face lit up, denying the years. Now, open it my boy.

Dunhill lighter, new in the box. A gift never used.

Pandorian Dilemma

A Gordian knot guarded it contents, the rope wound through eyelets. He struggled. Nothing. It seemed to grow tighter. I can't quite- His grandfather watched, his subtle smile lightening the load. Use what you need, whispered his grandfather. Alexander pulled out his pocket knife and sliced the cordage. That's it. The elder's smile grew wider.

Salvatore Ferragamo silk scarf.
An example of the designer clothing category this week.

J. Tostrup Norway sterling & enameled set.

Alexander reached inside. Some objects felt warm, others cold, some smooth, others old. You'll know, spoke the elder. It was then something seemed to slip into his hand, pulling his arm inward. Grasping the object, Alexander pulled it out. On his palm was a small tarnished oil lamp, years of use or misuse spoke volumes. He placed it on the bedside table. My gift to you Alexander.

Light My Fire

Found it in an old Moroccan market years ago, began Grandpa. Is this a magic lamp or something? Asked Alex. A faint laugh slipped from Grandpa's lips. I don't know...never rubbed it. Never needed too. Life taught me what I needed to know...his words faded. Please remember Alex, fulfillment is the most dangerous want of all.

Seiko Bell-Matic wrist watch.

Tiffany & Co. military wrist watch.

The medical machines triggered alarms. Instantly, the room filled with nurses and doctors. Despite their efforts, Grandpa slipped away. It was his time. Grandpa! Grandpa! But he was gone, his soul releasing, his final fulfillment complete. Alexander stood stunned. This gift. Why him? A voice spoke inside his head. You'll know how to protect it from mankind.

Til Death do us Part?

The funeral home was packed with family and friends. Outpouring of emotions flooded the rooms. Alex stood before the coffin, studying his grandfather at rest. People shuffled by, some crossing, others praying. Several reached out and touched the body. Thank you were the two words he heard over and over. He thought he knew his grandfather, but never in this light. So many came. So many felt the loss. Grandpa, he thought, who were you?

Victorian peep shows, 5½" - 4¾" H.
Niagara Falls souvenirs well represented this week.

He leaned forward one more time to say goodbye and stopped. No way. Just no way! Was he going crazy? For a flicker of a second he swore his Grandpa had just smiled, that unmistakable signature smile. He blinked. All was as it had been, except for him.

Three Coins in a Fountain

This week had been way too much. He left the funeral home to the silence of his car. Here he could sort his thoughts. He pulled out the oil lamp and turned it in his hand. What is your secret? His cell phone broke the spell. It began buzzing without relenting.

Salvatore Ferragamo silk scarf. Gaming for pheasants coordinates with our hunting theme this week.

What the- He picked it up and stared at the screen. A text message read. My first wish. I wish for the wisdom to accept others. Alexander began to shake. Can't be, he thought. The screen lit up again. Second wish. I wish for the compassion to compromise. His eyes stared at the messages. Re-lit screen again. Third wish. I wish for at least one mourner at my graveside to justify my life. He dropped the phone. The message was clear. Magic lamps may bring wealth and fame, but only in legend. Humans. There is the magic. He reached into the back seat and pulled forward the duffle bag, tucking the lamp back inside. Tomorrow he would buy a new rope, one woven in true Gordian fashion.