My beloved refridgerator is now dying. This is not a ordinary story of a man and his fridge, this is a special fridge, because it came back to me.
Many years ago when I was a little kid my parents drug the whole family to Wards to buy a new fridge. Using my incredible little kid powers of deductive comparison, I immediatly knew that the best deal was the one with the in door-water and ice dipenser. I had never seen one before, and they were fairly new and rare. After using much logic on my parents(“But mom it’s neet. It has ice from the door”)
I finally talked them into it, and we brought it home. I then had to help my dad cut back the cupboards to make it fit.(Dad loved it when I helped him build things when I was six. I brought so much to the endeavor 
)
Over the years the fridge served us very well, and never needed repairs or anything. Sometime in my teenage years my traitorous parents decided to remodel the kitchen again, and the fridge was given to my grandmother to replace her 1960’s model. My Gramma died, and her house was bought by family friends.
Cut to years later. The fridge at my house has died. I am looking for a new one when one of my friends says his sister is remodeling their kitchen, and doesn’t know what to do with the old fridge. I go to pick it up, and realizre the magnitude of the moment. It is my old fridge. Aparently the friend of the family who bought my grammas house , had remodeled the kitchen, and given it to her brother. The brother had in turn used it for a while, then he too remodeled, and gave the fridge to one of his friends, who was the friends sister I got it from.
Once again reunited, the fridge has held watch over over my cold and frozen goods without incident for a couple years now. But a couple days ago I noticed that my milk was uncomfortably luke warm. A quick check showed that everything was a little warm. I cranked up the cold dial over the next few days, but alas there was just not enough oomph in the old girl to refridgerate very well anymore. Still in denial I cleaned off all the coils and passages, hopeing against hope. But today I grabbed a frozen pizza, and to my horror it was floppy. The freezer had insulated for a while, but now it too is not useable.
The old girl who served many masters and mistresses over the years is gasping it’s last breath. Many times rejected for new fancier models(what is so bad about harvest gold anyway?), it has outlasted damn near all of them. At least it died in a home it was appreciated in. Tonight I will drink a final (lukewarm) beer and call the city appliance pick-up crew to take her to that final resting place.