I've been unpacking boxes the past couple of days, boxes that contained glassware, collectibles, well, my idea of collectibles at least. I finally have a shelving unit that I can use to display and have access to the glasses,etc., that I have had packed away.
One of the boxes I unpacked though, contained bits and pieces of our former life. An address book my mother had was in a box which was labeled pictures, etc. I had no idea what it was when I picked it up, it was wrapped in plastic, and I had no idea what I was unwrapping, until the final bit. It was Mom's old address book. The covers have come undone, the pages are falling out, but I'm keeping it anyway. As I page through, I see names of people I've almost forgotten, see the various addresses my older sister had as she and her husband lived in various cities across the country where he was sent when he was in the military. Some of the entries are made in my hand, some in my mother's hand and some in my dad's handwriting. There are also a few my sister made. Both my parents and sister have now passed away so seeing their handwriting brings a tear to my eye, and seeing the entries of other friends of my parents who have since passed brings back so many memories. Mom sitting with her best friend Mae, over coffee in the evening, while both Mae's husband and my father worked on second shift as janitors. The name of my old doctor, a wise and learned man, who had a great deal of compassion, and knew how to listen to a teenager. Then I turn the page and see names I don't remember or recognize and realize that after I left home, Mom and Dad had a life I wasn't privy to on a day to day basis. So many, many memories all contained within the falling out pages of an old address book, and a book I will keep forever, or at least until I die.
And then I open another box, one that has been packed away for over 12 years. Yes, 12 years! About the time we were first going to put our old house up for sale and I packed up the contents of a china cabinet in preparation, mainly cause I didn't want my special stuff to be on display if some one came in to look at the house. And now as I go through the box, I'm assailed, overwhelmed, and joyful with the memories. I find a beautiful crystal bowl, teacups that belonged to my husband's grandmother, decorative plates that my mother had, and a few things I'm really shocked I kept. And I wonder why they were so special back then that I felt the need to keep them. Some maybe because they were gifts and I was brought up to cherish gifts that were given, but I think some of the items I kept were simply because I was overwhelmed at all the decisions I had to make when I was packing.
Some boxes were packed away in 2005, and as I open the boxes I find stuff I had forgotten we had. I now know where the top to the blender is, but because I bought one to replace the missing top, I am now the proud owner of two blenders and don't really use either one anymore. But, because one was a wedding present, I will keep it until it dies, or gift it to someone who can use it. I find a bowl, that belonged to my husband's grandmother, I think, but Corningware never goes out of style. Well, maybe it might go out of style, but it will always be useful. And who can't use more bowls? I know when I get going in the kitchen, an extra bowl is always a good thing. And then it hits me, so many of the Corningware items are now classified as antiques, I know this because I've had them over 30 years, and some were handed down from family.
So many treasures, and so little room to put them in.
One of the boxes I unpacked though, contained bits and pieces of our former life. An address book my mother had was in a box which was labeled pictures, etc. I had no idea what it was when I picked it up, it was wrapped in plastic, and I had no idea what I was unwrapping, until the final bit. It was Mom's old address book. The covers have come undone, the pages are falling out, but I'm keeping it anyway. As I page through, I see names of people I've almost forgotten, see the various addresses my older sister had as she and her husband lived in various cities across the country where he was sent when he was in the military. Some of the entries are made in my hand, some in my mother's hand and some in my dad's handwriting. There are also a few my sister made. Both my parents and sister have now passed away so seeing their handwriting brings a tear to my eye, and seeing the entries of other friends of my parents who have since passed brings back so many memories. Mom sitting with her best friend Mae, over coffee in the evening, while both Mae's husband and my father worked on second shift as janitors. The name of my old doctor, a wise and learned man, who had a great deal of compassion, and knew how to listen to a teenager. Then I turn the page and see names I don't remember or recognize and realize that after I left home, Mom and Dad had a life I wasn't privy to on a day to day basis. So many, many memories all contained within the falling out pages of an old address book, and a book I will keep forever, or at least until I die.
And then I open another box, one that has been packed away for over 12 years. Yes, 12 years! About the time we were first going to put our old house up for sale and I packed up the contents of a china cabinet in preparation, mainly cause I didn't want my special stuff to be on display if some one came in to look at the house. And now as I go through the box, I'm assailed, overwhelmed, and joyful with the memories. I find a beautiful crystal bowl, teacups that belonged to my husband's grandmother, decorative plates that my mother had, and a few things I'm really shocked I kept. And I wonder why they were so special back then that I felt the need to keep them. Some maybe because they were gifts and I was brought up to cherish gifts that were given, but I think some of the items I kept were simply because I was overwhelmed at all the decisions I had to make when I was packing.
Some boxes were packed away in 2005, and as I open the boxes I find stuff I had forgotten we had. I now know where the top to the blender is, but because I bought one to replace the missing top, I am now the proud owner of two blenders and don't really use either one anymore. But, because one was a wedding present, I will keep it until it dies, or gift it to someone who can use it. I find a bowl, that belonged to my husband's grandmother, I think, but Corningware never goes out of style. Well, maybe it might go out of style, but it will always be useful. And who can't use more bowls? I know when I get going in the kitchen, an extra bowl is always a good thing. And then it hits me, so many of the Corningware items are now classified as antiques, I know this because I've had them over 30 years, and some were handed down from family.
So many treasures, and so little room to put them in.
