I have often thought about writing a book with this title.
I look around my home, and I see the afghan she crocheted for me. I look at pictures of my Grandma Annie and Grandpa Glen and I miss them. And then I look at my dishes.
Now, really I am taking a little poetic license, because the dishes I have now are from Target. But for years, the set of Corelle dishes that I used everyday were ones that used to belong to Grandma and Grandpa. Now they are up at the cabin, so I still see them from time to time.
But when I think about any "things" that I own, the ones that are important to me are ones that came from people in my family. And not like the kindle that my sister got me for my birthday.
No, the important things are those that meant something to them. Like the doughnut cutter.
Grandpa Glen and Grandma Annie owned a coffee and doughnut shop for a long time, like maybe 30-some years. A few times, during a summer when we were visiting them, Grandpa would get me up at 4:30am and we would go in together and make the doughnuts. By the time Grandma came in at 6am, I felt like I had already worked an entire day. But it was fun, even though it was a lot of work, and I still remember it to this day.
I have that doughnut cutter.
When Mom and Dad were going through Grandma and Grandpa's stuff after they had passed away, they called me and asked what I wanted.
I asked for the doughnut cutter.
Last week, for my birthday, mom gave me a pair of diamond earrings.
Now that is lovely, and I was thrilled to get them. They truly are beautiful.
But then she told me: they were Grandma's.
At that point, they became infinitely more important to me, because they were hers. They were in her ears, and now they are in mine.
So now maybe I'll have to change the book title: I Wear My Grandmother's Earrings.
Thank you Mom.