Good morning to everyone. I hope you all had a splendid weekend. I was able to get quite a bit accomplished and am feeling quite good about that. I told stories yesterday at the Alzheimer Center and the topic I chose was quite thought provoking for me. So, because it made such an impact on me...I thought I would share it as my blog for today.
You see, often times we put focus on the people in our lives and how thinking about them can spark memories. Well, I discovered that an object in our lives can tell a story as well. As I worked on stories, they were of a Table, Swing, Rocking Chair, Candle, Bar of Soap and a Lake House. As the stories went, each of these items were about the memories held within. The table held the memories of children growing up around it and the so-called battle scars in the table made by numerous family and friends. As I studied the story...it made me think of my own table and the stories that it could tell. The amounts of people that have gathered around it through the years...the children that had been fed next to it. I thought of the games played on it...the conversations held around it. Meetings have been held there. I have done my art there. Showers and Wedding foods were held by it. The list goes on and on. I thought about the history and the heritage that that single table holds and am blown away. When I prepared the story of the Swing, I went back in time to my own porch swing and all the conversations that occurred there. I thought about how many times we snapped peas while sitting on that swing, how many pillow cases were stitched and how many items had been crocheted while sitting there. I remembered singing O Danny boy and lullabies galore while sitting on that swing and how many stories were told there. It brought back the memories of many, both young and old...and dates of long ago. While I prepared for the Rocking Chair story, I cried through most of it. It really hit home. It reminded me of my Grandmother and her rocking chair days. The cushions that we used to buy her as presents, the babies she rocked there, the stories she told from that single chair. Family history had been passed down from that chair as the years gently rolled by. When it came time to prepare the candle story, this took a much different turn for me. A candle in the window took me to my favorite Bed and Breakfast in Honeyville, Indiana. The owner has candles in the window. I remember the first time seeing it...it made my heart warm. I couldn't wait to do the same in my own home. When I think of how much that area has influenced me...I am astounded. I own many hurricane lamps because of that area. The Amish influence was quite big in my adult life. Every time the lights go out in a storm, and the hurricanes are lit, I am so grateful. Even the bar of soap story took me back in time. Remembering a similar story of how a child I knew in grammar school was left out because of his hygiene and my making friends with him regardless. The idea of the soap brought back various stories of my grandparents, my children and grandchildren. And the lake house...well, that was a big story in my life. When I need a thought that can still my mind, I can close my eyes and remember mornings at the Lake house. Arising early, making that first cup of coffee and sitting outside while I could smell the dew on the ground and watch the mist lift up from over the lake. The stillness of it all is still one of the most calming memories I have.
So it seems to me that everything we touch or have touched leaves our fingerprints upon it. They are all things that can bring forth a special meaning...they may not all be the same, but they are there. We often get so tied up in our daily lives that we sometimes forget what the past has left us with those THINGS. I have started to look at some things a little differently now. I am not sure whether it is because I am older...or because I WANT to remember those days. Whatever the reason is, I am glad to wash that table, polish that rocker, swing on a swing, buy a special bar of soap, or have a candle lit. They are all part of my heritage...my history, my life. Stop and take a look around. Choose an item and just think about what has happened because of it...or around it. You may find it is like a living scrap book of your life. Enjoy the memories.