Goodbye, Old Friend

Goodbye, mine Swingline. Goodbye, mine Stapler. Sayanora. Shalom. Au revoir. All the things you've held together. The essays. The stories. The travel itineraries. The print-at-home tickets. The 952 rejected tv movie ideas. The receipts, the bills, the miscellaneous evidence of daily life. We've shared so much, mine stapler. It seems like only yesterday I freed you from the box, and put you to work. I expected a lot and you delivered. Through all the demands, the random tasks, the clutter, you were a pro. Never complaining, never rolling your staples at me. Thank you for that. The years together, they've been special, so many, I've lost count. But you've been there for me. You've never let me down. Until yesterday. Yesterday, you said, "Enough." Yesterday, you said, "I'm done." Just like that, you broke. I tried to save you, tried to dislodge the staples embedded inside you. I turned you upside down. I launched an investigation. I called for back up. Even longtime hubby couldn't fix you. You were beyond repair. Was it old age? Wear and tear? Planned obsolescence? Was it something I said? I'll never know. But what I do know is this. You were a trouper, a loyal office mate. You lasted longer than the others that came before you. Wherever you're headed next, wherever all the broken desk accessories go when they're past their prime, I wish you well on your journey. Goodbye, mine Swingline. Goodbye, mine Stapler. Goodbye.