I have my favorite doll and my grandmothers depression glass. I have inherited through my husband at least 100 salt and pepper shakers from the early nineteen hundreds. I look at them from time to time the. Carefully wrap them up and put them away.
I have dishes, glasses, silverware and even my grandmothers coat. I have my fathers army metals and dress uniform. I can’t part from them. I admire the people who placed their imprints on them. I love the thought that they held them.
I have pictures, many pictures. Mom dressed in a communion dress and dad on a pony. They all have their place in my home. Frozen in time their smiles from long ago negate any thoughts of their passings.
I would love to see who would take some of these things to treasure them. My mom gave them to me because “your the only one that would keep them”. And I do. Along with the ownership comes responsibilities Who do I give them to?
My family’s homes are near tidy and well put together. If you walked I to them you’d like them. Just enough pictures and chachkeys to make their abodes perfect. Mine, well is to my liking for the most part. I have a piece of memorabilia in every room. The “stuff” starts conversations and allows the person who owned it to be alive again. I change what is out from time to time. The ones I have a special fondness for rarely see the light of day.
Grandmom’s depression shot glasses only come out on my birthday or when an event in my life is happy. Why? I feel as if I’m having a drink with her. She would have liked that.
My daughter had no desire to have them. “Where would I put them?” And “you know the kids would ruin them!” So my search goes on.
I have not one but two deer heads. My late husband was proud and just loved them. I’ve always hated them and feel as if they are being viewed in his man cave. I feel as if I’m at a wake at the local funeral home. These I can’t stand but can’t part with either.
So using my grandma’s depression shot glass I raise a toast to all of us who love our “things” and have the responsibly to pass them on to an unwilling generation. I just hope the receivers of such gifts understand the responsibility they will have to pass them on to the next generation. But the dear heads just have to go :0)