Throughout our lives we collect a lot of material baggage.
We save toys from childhood, souvenirs from vacations and even old rugs in case
we need them. And if we don’t save the stuff, our mothers do. I am starting to
admire people who change out their décor and just dispose of the used items. I
save it for garage sales or ebay or sometimes Gary saves things in the garage
instead of taking to the garbage. He has 3 lamps awaiting repair.
I am a garage and estate sale addict and attend the monthly
flea markets in the area. You savers are appreciated by me. For me, the old
things spark a memory of a time gone by. I am always on the lookout for any memento
that reminds me of my mother or grandmother.
Since genealogy is another hobby, when I see old papers,
letters, bibles, or cards, my interest is piqued. I used to think that ancestor
photos and documents were the only important part of compiling a family
history. Now I can see how the stuff used and left by people can tell stories
of how they lived. At a recent sale I picked up a Masonic bible, a lamp with
the tag still on it, and some artwork. The bible had the homeowners name along
with other members. The lamp was purchased in Chicago at Marshall Fields. One
piece of art was a straw picture from Mexico, another a signed and numbered
lithograph. From the bible, I learned that the man was probably a businessman
since he was an officer in the local Masons. The lamp indicated that they may
have travelled to Chicago and that she was interested in fine things. “Good friends”
had given them the Mexican souvenir in 1953. What a long time to keep such unusual
décor. One piece of art was a winter scene painted on cardboard and signed in
the corner by the lady of the house. A bible that I did not purchase had her
maiden name written on the owner page.
Sometimes I pick up some ephemera at auctions or flea
markets, then try to track down a relative on Ancestry who is interested a
piece of family memorabilia. I always wonder why people sell letters and family
photos at sales. Did no one in the family want such precious items? Well, you
just can’t keep everything. And often the younger generation has lost track of
who the photos belong to. The names of friends and relatives that grandma and
grandpa knew easily get lost with time and distance from the past. Unless a
younger family member takes an active interest. For instance, when I visited my
grandmother, we went through the old photos box and she told me names and
stories about the ancestor. I related to them through her and now through the
pictures. On her death, my Aunt took possession of the boxes of family
valuables and pictures. That usually happens in families. One daughter takes
care of those items, and the possession and knowledge should be passed down.
Photos and family memorabilia is not shared enough. For instance, my aunt has
no children. I hope she has made an arrangements in her will to pass it all to
someone who will be responsible with them. Pictures used to be precious but now
everyone can take numerous shots with the Iphones and save in the cloud. Where
do those go when you are gone from the cloud? And many never print those
digital images to share. From our children we receive an annual family shot and
the infamous school pictures. And a few from relatives as Christmas cards.
As pictures become less important, some “little thing” from
grandmothers and aunts become more precious and can tell something about them. I
received a gold pocket watch from my mother engraved with her uncle’s name. He
drowned in 1925, two years before her birth. The uncle was her father’s twin
brother. She cared for the watch like it was worth a million dollars. I think
she treasured it so because it made her remember the uncle and thus her father.
Grandmother gave her the watch but the story of how she came by it was lost.
Perhaps my grandfather acquired it upon Uncle Romain’s death and Mother thought
of it as “Daddy’s watch”. After Mother
passed, I searched for Romain’s son of the same name. He lived and died in
Bellevue, and we never knew until my internet research. He left no survivors. I
like to think that he would have enjoyed having something of his father.
My sister cherishes a small depression bowl belonging to our
great grandmother Howard. From grandmother, it is passed to the oldest
granddaughter in the family. So it travelled to Mother then Brenda and now to
her granddaughter, Brittaney who will understand its meaning.
When I was a young girl we had a basket that we used to
gather potatoes. One day years later, I viewed it sitting forlornly in the
garden mud and asked my mom about it. She told me that my dad’s mother had made
the basket. At my interest, she gave it to me and I have cared for it over the
years. I imagine my grandma Margaret making the basket out of necessity as it
is made from hand hewn thick wood strips. It is not a fine piece of basketry as
those made by the Cherokee Indians and artisans.
When the family was dispersing my grandmother’s household, I
was given hats belonging to her and her second husband, Callie. Grandmother’s
was a straw hat with red plastic cherries. I still see her coming from the
garden with a basket of beans wearing that hat. Or walking on the beach at
Daytona. Callie had been gone for over 30 years and still she kept his hat. It
deserves to be saved another 30 years by me as I remember him passing the day
at Burning Fork rocking under the shade tree in the front yard. As we sit on
the front porch watching all the cars in a hurry, catching a random wave or
honk. No, I do not wear the hat yet but I drink an occasional beer there.
Already, I tell my girls which of our stuff is important to
the family. Some books are old and valuable, but they will need to be checked
to see what little item I have stuck in there. A common habit. And our will
designates specific dispersals. We have instructed them to pass on that stuff
they don’t want. I hope that my paintings and Gary’s hand mades will be
treasures.
If you see either at the auction, please save.
