Old Wallie

Posted: July 1, 2013 in Family, Humour
Tags: , , , , , , ,

 

wallie

Well, it had to happen. After years of using her, sitting on her, losing her, finding her, opening and closing her, and putting more money into her than I’d dare to imagine, I finally had to let her go.

She was faithful to me right to the end. She could identify me. She managed my credit, she managed my debit, and helped me to prove to others that, not only could I drive, but I was qualified to work in the trade I had. She was there for me when I checked into the hospital. We went to the movies together. She put up with my farts, and allowed me to handle her with my rough hands.

I would have kept her longer, but she was getting a little long in the tooth, a little ratty. Over the years, she literally stuck through thick and thin. She was there whether I had money or not. My wife even stole from her on many occasions, although she wouldn’t tell me. But I’d find out. She’d tell me in her own little way.

It’s hard for a man like me to let go of her. She’s been there. She’s done that. She’s been to Florida, Alberta, and countless other places with me. She’s been on many airplanes. She’d never judge. I’d find something I like, and she’d pay for it. Oh, the miles we’ve travelled together!

My wallet had finally fallen apart.

It’s not such an easy thing for a man to change wallets. Oh, you women sometimes change purses like underwear. I know women who have over 30 purses. My wife has three, so that’s not so bad. But still. A wallet is so personal. I’ve had this wallet for over 10 years. I call her ‘Wallie’, It took me two weeks just to find her, to find a suitable replacement for ‘Greta’, my last wallet.

Wallie was always there for me. Unless, of course, I misplaced her. And when I did, I’d search for hours, trying to find her. I know what was in her was important, for sure, but we’re talking about Wallie here. She’d been everywhere with me. You can’t just discard such memories.

Once, when I had Greta, I had lost her for almost a year. We’d cancelled all my credit cards, renewed licences, all the stuff you go through when you lose your wallet and important documents. But, 11 months passed, and I just didn’t feel right. The wallet I’d bought as a replacement was purchased half-heartedly. ‘Sure, I guess…’, I told Anne when she asked if this wallet would do. Secretly, I always hoped Greta would turn up, much like when someone loses a pet.

Then, one day, in a fit of spring cleaning, we found Greta in the bottom of our walk-in closet, in some pants I hadn’t worn, clearly, in 11 months. Oh, the joy!! She had over $300 in her. I’m pretty sure there had not been that much in her when I lost her, but, almost as if she cared for me, she must have made my cash have children. But, I had already gotten used to Wallie by then, so the reunion was bittersweet. But what came out of this was the notion that, before I lost Wallie, I would have another replacement chosen so that the transition wouldn’t be as devastating.

3 weeks ago, Wallie started to come apart. Her seams were splitting, she would open too easily, and she looked like she’d been dragged through the mud a few times. The mud part is actually kind of true. And so, I set out on a quest of sorts…finding a replacement for Wallie.

This turned out to be not as easy as I had hoped. It turns out that, in the last 10 years, men’s wallets had become a dying breed. Where you used to be able to buy one at pretty much any store, they had become available at only a few select places. But, I did find some. They were nowhere near the wallet Wallie was, but I had to make a decision, so I could lay Wallie to rest.

While I have now made my transition to ‘Rooty’, I am feeling a tad melancholy. Wallie is sitting on a shelf near where I am writing this. She’s empty of all that is important, but she’s there. I can see her. Maybe I’ll throw a twenty or two in her, and go for one last romp.

It’s ironic that Wallie paid for Rooty. It’s kind of like asking a death row inmate to throw the switch on his own electric chair. I’d prefer to think that’s it’s more like an old executive hand-picking their replacement. But I know better. Wallie knows better.

In the spring, when we had our first campfire of the year, old Wallie had her last fire with us. And as she burnt, I had a pop, and toasted about all the times we had together.

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Comments
  1. Luke Lafantaisie says:

    I feel your pain brother. My first ADULT wallet went through a bike accident,1983 and 10 years of military service until it was stolen from my hotel in Germany .1995 .I ended up with a Camo Kevlar I named BPT ( butt protection device)..looking wallet hastily chosen to put my replacement id and convention card , drivers license etc…

    That wallet lasted me until last year 18 years old.. So it was like losing a friend.. BUT … a beautiful lambskin leather black wallet with a Toronto maple leafs branded into the leather suddenly appeared on my desk and I fell in love again . I named it Cujo .

    I love your musings dude.. keep them coming.

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