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sylviatexas1

Heirlooms, Special Stuff, Hurt Feelings, Getting On With Life

sylviatexas1
16 years ago

The thread about the sofa sort of expanded to a lot of other stuff, & I wrote this as a response on that thread, but my thoughts have ranged *so* far off the original topic, & I don't want to hijack the thread.

so here we go:

The unfairness of "stuff" going somewhere else isn't at all limited to grabby 2nd spouses & their greedy kids .

I come from a formerly-big family (my mother was 1 of 4, my father 1 of 12), & I've seen & heard all the resentment & hurt feelings you can imagine over the stuff that's left over at the end of a person's life.

You'd think that would make me immune, wouldn't you?

& it usually does, but sometimes there's *something* that I think, "Waah! I *want* that! That's supposed to be *mine*!"

I have 2 brothers.

When my father died, my mother gave my father's coin collection, his guns, his tools, & his military medals to her favorite son.

My other brother got his bowling shirt, & I got his wallet (sans cash).

(One poignant thing is that my father was still carrying my high school picture around in that old wallet.)

& I got my feelings hurt one Christmas in a way that surprised me:

I never met my mother's mother;

she died when my mother was 14 years old.

At some point, my mother gave me the wooden bread bowl that her brothers (my uncles) had *carved* out of scrap wood for their mother one Mother's Day during the Depression.

Even though I never knew her, I treasured that bowl.

maybe it gave me a feeling of connectedness to my female lineage?

I did love it.

One Christmas, my cousin Mike, my mother's sister's only child, called & said he wanted to ask me for a "favor".

His mother wanted that bowl;

her mother had taught her to make bread in that very bowl.

Mike said he'd pay me for it "as long as it isn't more than I can afford."

I fretted over that for nearly a week & finally confided in a man friend, a no-nonsense, get-things-done guy who always told me the truth.

He said, "Dam, Baby, give her the bowl."

so I did.

I oiled it, boxed, it, & wrapped it, & drove it 60 miles to her house & gave it to her myself.

Her demeanor when she opened it told me that it was no surprise (she undoubtedly had asked Mike to ask me for it).

But she told me how her mother had taught her to make bread, & while she was talking, she went through the motions of flouring the breadboard, flouring the bowl, rollng the dough.

She was *there*, back in her mother's kitchen 65 years ago, a little girl learning to make bread.

(Mike told me he'd be sure I got the bowl back, "when Mom isn't here any more", but he'll likely forget, or get mad at me in the meantime, or something.)

When my mother went to a nursing home, my aunt did give me her wedding rings, but, as someone said above, when would I wear them?

They're *wedding rings*, the bands are nearly worn through on the inside, a couple of the itsy-bitsy diamonds are missing...

I also was "supposed" to get my mother's sewing machine, the one on which she made my "first day of school" dresses for about 5 years & on which I learned to sew.

A technique I've learned to figure out if my feelings are really about the "stuff" is to ask myself if I would buy similar things for myself:

coin collections-no

bread bowls-no

1940's style wedding bands-no

sewing machine-yes indeed

This tells me that the coins, the bowl, & the jewelry aren't about the practical or monetary value but about emotional significance...

& there's just no way to get that back.

The sewing machine...

I found the exact model on ebay, & it's sitting in my sewing room right now.

I grin every time I use that 58-year-old thing.

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