There is an old saying, ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’ and so it goes for women too!
In the weekend we moved some furniture around in our lounge and one of them was a rimu display cabinet in which I have displayed some of the treasures I have gathered over the years. As I was putting the various items back into the cabinet after moving it, I started looking at the things I had collected and wondering what my children will think of them when the day comes where they may be sorting out our house.
Many of the things are not just pieces of china or porcelain or glass, they are part of my memories. There is a silver egg cup which my Nanna gave to me when I was baptised as a baby. Not knowing the history of it, it is just a rather tarnished egg cup. A crystal hedgehog sits on a shelf, a present from my Mum and Dad when my children’s father and I were married. There is also a bowl given to us as a wedding present.
Taking the items out and handling them, brings attention to them, that on a normal day wouldn’t be highlighted. I showed my husband a set of six wine glasses with frosted glass stems in the shape of birds. A gift I bought my Mum with my first pay packet and then later on they were given to me. The funny thing is, Mum never really drank wine! I think I just thought they were beautiful and that she might like them. I’m not sure she ever used them, but hopefully she appreciated the gesture.
There are memories there too of my husband and I. Two polished Paua shells with satin cushions that we used for our rings when we married are amongst my treasures. There are the button hole flowers that my daughter made for us for her wedding. All these things are treasures to me, marking moments in time that have meaning and memories.
I wonder what my children will think of them? If – when I am no longer here to object – they will just be packed up and given to a second hand shop like The Sallies?
My memories and my treasures in that cabinet have meaning for me, but I can’t expect that they would have any real kind of meaning for my children. Perhaps they might like the crystal hedgehog as a momento of when their father and I married? Maybe there will be something that they – or my grandchildren – might treasure in the future because it belonged to me?
I can’t expect my children to necessarily feel connected to my collection of bits and pieces. Why indeed would they? I just hope that somewhere down the line, there is something that they will treasure themselves.
My journey with Parkinsons 