Our dining room table belonged to my aunt. The chairs that we use now are the ones that were in the house I grew up in. Mom gave them to me when we inherited the table.
She had kept two of the chairs to refinish and use in her home, but she called me one day and told that I could come get the chairs since she had decided not to use them.
When I got to Mom's house, she asked me to help her move some furniture to the garage for the Salvation Army to come pick up.
As we began moving the furniture, I noticed a chair in the corner. I asked her about it, and she reminded me that it was my great-grandmother's chair. Mom was sad to let it go, but just didn't have a place to put it.
It took me back a bit.
My great-grandmother was Mary Louise. She had four children, including a set of fraternal twins, one of which was my grandmother, my mom's mother.
She was an incredible lady. When my great-grandfather died suddenly, my great-grandmother was overcome with grief. They had such a sweet relationship. Throughout her life, most every time she spoke of him, she cried. She never stopped missing him.
After he was gone, she decided she needed a new space in her home-a space that didn't remind her of him.
She purposed a small corner of her bedroom as a television nook. She put a chair in the corner and an old black and white television on the dresser, and after a long day at work and an evening of puttering around the house, she would settle herself in her chair. She had a stock of magazines and books near by, but the television played on.
I imagine the noise comforted her.
It was a family joke that we could usually find her napping in that chair later in her life.
I stood in my mother's garage this day and decided I simply could not let that chair go to the Salvation Army.
My mom and I wrestling that chair into the back of my minivan already full of other salvaged goodies from her garage was a sitcom in and of itself.
We laughed so much.
But we did it.
We have strong women in our family.
Later I backed the van into my own garage and wrestled the chair out of the back of the van.
It was covered in a blue slipcover that my great-grandmother had hand made meticulously. I felt badly about taking it off, but the treasure in the original fabirc that I found underneath made me terrifically happy.
I rearranged what used to be the breakfast nook of our home that has since become the "office."
I made my own reading corner.
I found a handmade wooden what is probably a plant stand at my favorite thrift store for $5.
It's perfect for my books.
I found a new rug at the same thrift store and soon it was a cozy little nook perfect for settling in with a stack of books.
(This pic was taken before the table find.)
I try so hard to hold loosely to worldly possessions. I honestly don't care much about stuff, and most everything in our house I thrifted, received as a hand-me-down or bought right after we married out of necessity.
But it's things like this chair that I do love so dearly. I sit in it and hear the music of the springs singing and rub my hands on the slightly stained arm rests, and I just feel happy and close to my sweet great-grandmother. The desk that the computer is on was my great-grandfather's.
More heirlooms.
Then there are other things, like...
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My other great-grandmother's purse.
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She kept it packed with tissue paper and in a plastic sleeve. In the purse is still a powder puff and when I picked it up, the powder got on my finger. Sweet reminder.
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My great-grandmother helped make the dress, along with my great great-grandmother, my grandmother, and I also, got married in. She also made this robe.
I love the audacious flowers she embroidered.
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I found this matching gown in a vintage clothing store about 15 years ago. The gown is from the 50's.
They are packed away in my closet for now.
My dad made this napkin holder when he was about my daughter's age. It's precious to me for several reasons.
These are the things I hold dear. I want to hold them loosely, though.
Truly, I do.
I think these thoughts are fresh in my mind and heart after helping a friend pack up her world to move across the sea. There were mementoes packed to help her when she's sad and/or lonely, and I was glad there were.
I also found myself asking, "Could you leave most all of it behind?"
I don't think it's wrong to love these things that are dear to me. I would leave them behind if necessary.
(I think. No, I would. I mean, wouldn't I? Oh yes. I would. Of course. All of them? Can I keep the napkin holder?)
Anyway...
For now, I'm absolutely thrilled with my little nook. I think of my sweet Mary Louise whenever I sit there, and I'm so thankful that Mom kept that chair in her basement until the day it could come live at my house.
