Hidden Treasure
Dec 4th 2009
Claudia DainClaudia Dain & My Life As A Plebe
Big D’s dad is at that point in life where he’s giving stuff away. Actually, he’s been doing that for a lot of years now, but it’s intensifying. He’s not only giving us his “I don’t know what to do with this” stuff, but also his “This is really important to me” stuff.
In July he gave us an antique wooden box with a brass lock and key. This box is very old, probably about 140 years old, and has been in Big D’s family for generations. Big D’s dad gives us the box, tells us with great urgency, “This box must stay in the family forever!” We probably looked a bit startled because his next words were, “You can do what you want with it.” But he wouldn’t look us in the eye as he said that. In fact, he even turned away and walked out of the room.
Cue ominous music.
Since this isn’t a movie, Big D and I didn’t hear any ominous music. But we did hear the emotion in his dad’s voice. We noted it, and put the box on a side table so that it could begin the process of becoming part of our stuff.
Did I look inside the box? Yes, once. All I saw was a small pile of tiny papers in plastic bags. Big D’s dad is big on putting things in plastic bags so I didn’t think a thing of it.
Last week, Big D opened the box and took out all the plastic bags and opened them up. And he found treasure.
What sort of treasure? The contents of Big D’s older brother’s wallet. In fact, the wallet itself. Oddly, Big Brother didn’t use a real wallet; he liked to put all his stuff in a plastic bag. Big D had forgotten that about his brother, but there it was; Big Brother’s driver’s license and draft card and library card for the small town library and college student ID card and scuba license card and one of those wallet sized calendars from Hallmark. The year: 1973. The year Big Brother died in a car accident.
In that old wooden box were the contents of Big Brother’s pockets on the day he died. Big D touched every slip of paper, every coin, every membership card. His hands were gentle; the paper was old. He was not sad. He was…gratified, almost glad to be touching something of his brother’s again. To touch the library card for the library they had both used so often. To touch the draft card for a war long over. To see his brother’s face again on something as mundane as a driver’s license.
And when everything had been touched, back it all went into plastic, closed up once more in an aged wooden box. The hidden treasure in plain sight on a table in our house. Yes, this box must stay in the family forever.
Have you ever found hidden treasure? What do you treasure most of your possessions? What do you have that is treasure to you, but may be meaningless to someone else?
79 Comments »
79 Responses to “Hidden Treasure”
Lisa H on 04 Dec 2009 at 6:36 am #
Wow! Claudia thank you for making me cry! What a touching story. I have treasures like that from my favorite Grandmother. I have her ID card from work, and I love to look at it. She was so young and glamourous. Every little thing from someone you love becomes a treasure!
LoriHandeland on 04 Dec 2009 at 6:57 am #
There’s a legend someone told me about getting pennies from the other side. I guess pennies are easy to move (remember Ghost?) According to legend (Irish maybe?) spirits will leave pennies for their loved ones to let them know they are all right, so if you find pennies in strange places soon after a death that’s why.
A few days after my dad passed away I was cleaning out the garage and found some old, crusty, grass stained shoes one of my boys had used to mow the lawn. Since the shoes were far too small to be used by either of them anymore, I picked them up to toss and something rattled in one of them.
Yep. A penny tumbled out. Made me feel better that day. That was my hidden treasure.
I have a china vase that was my grandmother’s. It’s the only thing I have left of hers and I cherish it. Keep it right in my kitchen window so I can see it everyday.
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:00 am #
Excuse me while I find a hanky. That’s such a lovely story, Claudia. Especially showing the tender heart of a manly man.
My grandmother left me a small wooden box full of old pictures. I had asked for the box when I was 6. My mother was horrified because I had said “When you die, can I have this?”. My grandmother & I were fine with it.
When I got the box, I went thru it and gave family members pictures that belonged to their nuclear family. I kept everything else & have added to it over the years.
The real treasures, tho, are letters from my grandfather to her when he was working somewhere. He was a Baptist minister, but a carpenter to make a living to feed his 7 kids. Letters & old postcards from a long deceased uncle are there. He was a family favorite. They are fun & breezy. He was a movie extra sometimes & worked with Tom Mix. Cool. Recipes from aunts. Much as I love the pictures, the written items are the gold. Too sad future generations won’t have crumbly old paper & faded letters to hold and touch another generation.
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:01 am #
This is going to be a good day on TGB. I feels it in me bones. Keep the Kleenex handy. LOL
Kim on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:24 am #
Claudia-why do you always make me cry!! That’s a beautiful story.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:35 am #
You know, I wrote this blog the day after Big D went through the box, over the Thanksgiving holiday. When I read it to him yesterday, to make sure he was okay with me sharing this, he cried! He didn’t cry when he went through the box, but he cried over my description of it. Awww! He was still okay with me sharing it. So join the Cry Party!
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:36 am #
LisaH, that is so neat! I wish I something like that from my parents and grandparents. It’s the little bits of every day life that seem so much more meaningful later.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:38 am #
Oh, Margaret! What a treasure trove in your box!! I would love to read those letters, not that I’m asking, but I think the world has lost something with the advent of instant communication.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:40 am #
Lori, that’s such a nice story about your dad and the penny. Did you keep it?
I have my grandmother’s old glass mixing bowls that came with her mixer (from the early 50s, I would guess). They are my favorite bowls!
LoriHandeland on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:43 am #
Did I keep the penny?
It’s in my gramma’s vase.
Kathy on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:50 am #
I have my late mom’s jewelry boxes.
for some reason I have collected all of them. the faded pink leather one our dad gave to her in the 50s that plays Dance Ballerina Dance.
I played with it so much as a child, the ballerina snapped off at her feet.
The bought-in -Austria jewel box that looks like something off castle’s shelf. and the glass & brass one, with it’s cherubs for legs.
As the youngest of 7, the 5th daughter, and the one who least wears jewelry, it always amazes me that I managed to get these treasures.
Pesky on 04 Dec 2009 at 7:55 am #
I have a poem from my dad that he wrote to me prior to his death. I have my parent’s wedding album. I have every little gift my nephew’s bought me as children, no matter how small.
Louisa Edwards on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:00 am #
I can’t believe I’m all weepy and it’s not even nine am yet. Thanks a lot! LOL
I have some of my grandmother’s jewelry–one piece is a large cabochon-cut topaz brooch shaped like a spider. I loved it when I was little and used to beg her to let me wear it! I can’t imagine actually wearing it anyplace now, but I still love to look at it.
Lisa H on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:06 am #
I also have a blue star saphire surronded by tiny diamonds that my Grandma wore everyday. I now wear it everyday, not because it’s my choice for a ring, but because I can see it on her finger…it is my most prized posession.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:08 am #
Oh, Lori, that is SO COOL.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:15 am #
Kathy, I remember those ballerina jewelry boxes; they were so pretty. I’m so glad you got it!
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:17 am #
Pesky, a poem! That’s wonderful. I have my parent’s wedding album, too. I really treasure it. If I was better with scanning and posting, I’d put up a pic on the blog. But I’m not good at it, sad to say.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:18 am #
Oh, Louisa, you should wear it! You’d start a new fashion for large brooches! What a great treasure to have from your grandmother—something you associate with her and that you loved violently as a child.
Alicia on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:23 am #
…..just cried my eyeballs out! I am very fortunate to still have all of my immediate family with me. Although my dad’s mom has reached 95 (Mamaw Ross) and I think they’re about to diagnose my mom’s dad with cancer (Papaw Carter). They haven’t said the C-word yet, but they found some lung masses and are now running some extensive tests…I think they are looking for it to have come from somewhere else.
My Papaw has giving me a lot of “sayings” I guess you would call them. He always called me “Sugar Foot” when I was little. “Whatever turns your crank!” Anytime I ever hear that for the rest of my life, I will think of him! His wife, Mamaw Carter, has given me lots of jewelry. Her mother’s wedding band that is soooo tiny I can’t wear it. MC and I have the same birthstone so she has given me a lot of her amethyst rings. I have a poem that my dad wrote called “Where the Eagle Soars” that was actually published. I have it framed on my desk at work.
Freshechelle on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:30 am #
What a touching story. Thank Big D for letting us experience it.
I acquired some of my gran’s things after spending weeks emptying her apartment but our relationship wasn’t the type that would inspire such sentiment. Her things are still around my apartment but sadly more for their kitsch factor, not for sentimental reasons.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:41 am #
Gang, off to the eye doctor. I think I have an eye infection! Back in a couple of hours. Hang tight!
Deb Marlowe on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:22 am #
Hugs to Big D!
One of my favorite things is an old melamine mixing bowl from the fifties. My grandma cooked with it nearly every day. I think of her–and how she showed us how much she loved us by cooking for us–every time I use it!
Michelle B on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:35 am #
My Mom has been gone for almost 16 years now. She died of cancer very young at the age of 53. She was the only child born to one of 8 siblings. As such she inherited all of the 6 aunts’ wedding rings. She took them all and had one ring made that she designed. That ring was left to me. I’m don’t wear much jewelry, but wear my Mom’s ring to events that I think she would have liked to attended. Such as graduations, balls, bingo games, luncheons ect.
Margaret, I’m with you on the lost art of letter writing. My Mom loved to write letters and wrote to us often, especially since we moved around with the military. I saved them all and every once in a while when we were going through stuff to move I would find a card or letter she wrote. There is something so tangible about finding her handwriting. It always touches me.
Julia London on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:44 am #
My sister was very craft-oriented. She did cross-stitch and needlepoint and crochet. She crocheted dozens of afghans, gave them to her kids, to our parents, and they were all around her house. She got tired of making them and had gone on to something else. I asked her to make me one. She didn’t want to do it. I told her I would never be able to do one myself. She said, “good point.” And she laughed. She made me one, which is in our living room, and which I cherish.
My other sister was over not too long ago and looked at the afghan and burst into tears. She told me she had asked Karen to make her one, but she wouldn’t do it. “You can make one yourself. I HAD to make Julia one, you know how she is.” And they had both laughed about it. But now, my other sister doesn’t have an afghan.
I recently moved that afghan so no three year old’s hands could ruin it.
kay on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:46 am #
When my mother died, one of the things I took was her hair comb. I remember her combing her hair with that comb and I carry it with me in my purse and I use it. And every time I use it, I think of her. It’s more important to me than any of her jewelry ever was. My daughter kept my mohter’s engagement ring and just recently had a new shank put on it for her own engagement.
Rachel Gibson on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:56 am #
What a nice story Claudia. A few years ago my mother found my old tape recorder that I got in the fourth grade. We popped new batteries in it, and it was like going back in time. Back then, I was under the delusion that I could sing. So I have three tapes of me singing. Very weird to hear my voice at such a young age. There’s a fourth tape my brothers made for me of themselves burping and passing gas. Or as my mother used to say, “having windys.”
Madeline Hunter on 04 Dec 2009 at 9:59 am #
What a touching post, Claudia.
I have some treasures that have meaning and value for me alone. For example, when my maternal grandmother died, I was asked what I wanted from her household possessions. All I wanted was this inexpensive little jam container with a metal lid. I have vivid memories of visiting her and waking up and going down to breakfast and that little jam jar being on the table. The rest of the kitchen is a little hazy in my memory now, but not that jar, and seeing it conjures up all those childhood experiences from when I visited her house.
Julia London on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:11 am #
Rachel! I can;t believe you had a tape recorder. So did I! My family makes relentless fun of me for it to this day. I thought I could sing, and I also thought I was a masterful story teller and actress.
evlqn on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:24 am #
My mom has daddy’s wallet just the way it was the last time he used it right down to his emergency five dollars.
I have the John Deere doll my grandfather gave my grandmother. Recently my oldest son asked for it and I had to tell him no because his brother had asked me over ten years ago. Q never asked for things like that so I said yes. My younger brother asked for it a couple of years ago also, even offered to trade grandpa’s Stradivarius for it. I turned him down, I am not giving up the doll and his daughter actually plays the violin so she would be devastated to lose it. I also have grandma’s writing desk, it’s at my front door and we put our keys, wallets and such in it. I put the things I don’t use often but need to keep track of in the drawer.
I have pictures and works of art my sons made for me in school and there isn’t enough money on the planet to get me to give them up. I mourn the ones I have lost.
Charlotte M on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:31 am #
Color me sentimental. That was beautiful. Something so precious has to stay in the family!
Karen Rose on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:36 am #
I was warned by Kim on Twitter to bring a hankie. She was right.
What a beautiful story, Claudia. Now must go sniffle for a while.
Louisa Cornell on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:47 am #
Claudia, I think the most touching and beautiful part of this is that two men, Big D and his Dad are the keepers of this treasure. So many men are “practical” and don’t think to keep touchstones like this. Your husband and his father come from “good stock” – the kind with hearts full of honor and love.
When my father died my brothers and I had to go through his papers to find insurance policies, etc. He had always kept this brown metal box on the top shelf in the back of his and Mom’s closet. We opened it to find a complete record of his military service. The thing that stunned all three of us was the number of letters of commendation from generals and pilots and Air Force bigwigs. Then there were letters from soldiers and airmen he trained. He was six years Army and twenty one years Air Force. Then there were the medals. We had no idea the medals he’d been awarded for valor in combat in Korea. There was a faded news article from his hometown paper about how he drew fire onto his position to enable the rest of his squad to withdraw. A letter recommending him for another medal told how he carried wounded man after wounded man off the battlefield under heavy enemy fire. We knew he
Karen Hawkins on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:48 am #
Claudia, that was a beautiful story — made me weepy! It’s so touching how your husband was able to reconnect with his brother after such a long time.
When I would go to my grandmother’s house, I always sat in one particular rocking chair. When she died, she left it to me and I treasure it. It’s the focal point of my living room — the color, the style, all of it set the tone. And every time I sit in it, I think of her. It’s funny how cold objects can warm the heart.
Louisa Cornell on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:49 am #
was tough. (I can still make a bed you can bounce a quarter off!) We knew he was an honorable man and a great husband and father. We just didn’t know he was a war hero. We asked Mom why he never showed us this and why she never said anything.
She said he told her “You’re not supposed to get medals for doing your duty. I was a soldier. It was my duty.”
Janae on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:56 am #
What a beautiful story Claudia! Thank you for sharing it.
This past February my grandma passed away. Over the years she has given me shoes since we wear the same size and both love shoes, and some of her purses. I always think of her when I wear her shoes or carry one of her purses. Her purses still smell like her, even the ones that I’ve had for years. The days that I use one, the smell just hits me all day long. The night before her funeral my mom, 4 sisters, and I were going thru the last little bit of my grandma’s things. I picked out her Chanel No 5 perfume, which is what she wore every day and a Merle Norman perfume locket because it smells like the house she lived in when I was growing up. On the days I miss her the most, I’ll wear the Chanel and my favorite pair of shoes she gave me – 1940s black leather pump, use one of her purses, and take a deep breath of the Merle Norman perfume. On the day of her funeral I found her journal. My mom had never seen it before. When she finishes reading it, she’s going to give it to me. I know it’s going to be awhile because my mom’s an only child, and she’s having a really hard time.
Trini on 04 Dec 2009 at 10:59 am #
Oh Claudia this is a Cry Party really…. (kleenex please…)
When my son was born my grandpa showed me a tiepin to me that had been of his great-great-grandfather (I’m not sure if I write it correctly) and he said to me that it was his inheritance for my son (he was his first granson), as well as a portrait of this great-great-grandpa. He died 7 years ago and today I haven’t enough courage to take the tiepin and the portrait … I don’t know where the tiepin is kept, so I suppose someday (maybe when my son be older…) I will go to his house and I’ll look for the necktie pin and the portrait…. (again, kleenex please…)
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:09 am #
Back from the eye doctor. Yes, I do have an eye infection. It’s the drops for me for the next week! Glad I went before the weekend.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:11 am #
Alicia, I’m so happy for you that everyone in your family is still living. We can take that for granted, and we never should.
My mom bought an amethyst ring to wear to my wedding (with her lavender gown). I have it now. Every time I wear it I not only think of her, but think of her on my wedding day; a double dose of happy memories. Maybe we could start the Amethyst Club?
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:12 am #
Fresh, give it time. I bet you’ll acquire some treasure along the way.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:13 am #
DebM, and that bowl proves the point perfectly! The most ordinary of objects with the most profound of meanings. For you. Only for you. That’s hidden treasure.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:15 am #
MichelleB, you are so right; there’s something so personal about seeing their handwriting again! It’s such a personal part of who we are, so unique.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:16 am #
Oh, Julia! That’s such a touching story. I hope your afghan lasts forever.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:18 am #
Kay, that’s a lovely memento! A who would ever guess that the comb in your purse is your hidden treasure? I pity the purse snatcher who comes upon you. LOL
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:19 am #
Rachel, what a find! That must have been quite a moment, hearing your young voice again, so unexpectedly. I love moments like that.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:20 am #
Madeline, that is so lovely. Doesn’t it make you wonder what treasure your kids would pick in your house? I suspect it’s never something we expect. It usually seems like the most trivial thing, like a comb or a bowl.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:23 am #
Eviqn, good point: how to divide “the loot” among the kids. I only hope that my kids have different things they consider treasures so that everyone can be happy. I do think it’s nearly impossible to predict what will resonate with someone. Would Madeline’s grandmother ever have predicted the jam jar she bought on a whim?
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:27 am #
Louisa, you are so right. It does say something about the men. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for Big D’s dad to lose his firstborn so suddenly. And from that moment on, Big D was an only child. Very, very heartrending.
About your dad, they were like that, weren’t they? I recently discovered something about my dad’s time in the war, a subject for another day, but he wouldn’t talk about it either. He was doing his duty, and when it was over, it was over.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:28 am #
Karen, I think it’s wonderful and so touching that you designed your house around that rocker! It’s like she’s still in the center of your life. What a memorial.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:29 am #
Janae, isn’t it amazing how scents carry us back? They say the nose has the most potent “memory” of all our senses. I believe it.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:30 am #
Oh, Trini! You’ll be able to look for the tie-pin when the time is right. Don’t rush it. You want it to be a sweet moment, not a heart-breaking one.
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:31 am #
Claudia, the letters are just every day happenings that my grandfather wrote about. My uncle kept his writing short because they were postcards. One of those shows an old car making the treacherous climb up to Pike’s Peak summit back in the 30’s. He wrote funny oh-you-kid sort of stuff.
One of the dearest letters was written by my father to my mother while she was in the hospital when I was born. I don’t know if this was the norm back then or because she had some birthing problems, but she was in for 3 weeks. Not allowed to set foot to floor for the first week. The letter is so mushy and loving. I can just see my daddy writing it. This was a 2nd marriage for him. He had a 16 year old daughter. Apparently, both she and her mother were not among the good people. Both of them were in/out of jail all my life and daddy would bail them out. He was a good people.
I forgot that I have 2 rocking chairs that were my maternal grandmother’s/grandfather’s. Not the same style. Grandpa’s had rounded tops where your hands go and I can see him rubbing his hands over it when I think about it. It needs to be re-caned. I think I’ll do that come spring.
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:35 am #
Madeline, I know what you mean about the jam jar. I used to travel to Florida with an aunt of mine. In my teens, we would take her grandchildren and a cousin or two. We did a lot of things together. She often said that you can never predict what things a kid will remember when they grow up.
It’s true. I’ve done things with my own grandchildren to “make memories” and those are not the things they remember. LOL Proving you can’t create a memory at all. You just do stuff with a kid and let them have their own memory of it.
SheridanLA on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:41 am #
Last year, I went to help my dad clear out his storage rooms. While going through TONS of stuff, I came across my grandmother’s journal from her college years and 3 boxes of letters that contained all the correspondence between my grandmother and grandfather while they were courting and when they were first married. (they married in 1922) I have not read them all yet, but have them somewhat organized…it was wonderful seeing her handwriting.
I also found the stocking my mother made me when I was a kid… I thought it had been lost in my many moves. I burst into tears when I found it, startling my dad a bit, since I am not prone to emotional outbursts like that. My friend took that stocking last year and filled it to the brim with trinkets for Christmas and has claimed it for all years to come. The stockings were a very big deal to my mom.
I also finally brought all the ornaments my mother made back home with me.. so this year, I bought a tree and the other night, I had a wonderful time hanging them on the branches.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:49 am #
Margaret, when my grandmother had her kids, she was kept in the hospital for a few weeks, maybe even a month. It was standard back then, I’ve been told. This was in the 1920s.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:53 am #
Sheridan, I know just what you mean! The same thing happened to me, although with different stuff. *g*
My grandmother had painted an oil of a springtime wood. When my mother was downsizing, it was one of the few things she kept. So I grew up looking at this painting my grandmother had done, then looking at it in my mom and dad’s retirement hotel apartment, and then I moved away and they both died…and I didn’t know what had happened to it. A year or two after my mom died, her sister sent me a box of things she had somehow accumulated that she thought I’d want: the painting was inside! I cried like a child. It’s hanging in my foyer and one of my most treasured possessions.
B on 04 Dec 2009 at 11:57 am #
Awww, Claudia. What a touching story. My eyes were full of tears.
My grandma passed away in 2006, and I was very close to her. It was suddenly and I still miss her very, very, very much. She meant the world to me. One thing I realized was that I didn’t have a recent picture with her and it broke my heart. Most of her pictures were at least a couple years old. My most valuable possessions are my pictures. After grandma passed, I’ve sure to take pictures with people I love often enough. I find pictures I didn’t know I have often — I found one a while back with three of my grandparents, two of which have passed. I can’t look at the picture without crying (or talk about it, even), but I like knowing I have it.
A treasure I found was a piece of paper with my grandma’s writing. There was this day we were playing around and I was making songs up. I must’ve been 10 or 11 and she was noting it down. So, a while ago I find this paper with a silly song in my grandma’s writing. I just started sobbing when I found it and I’m going before I start crying again
Trini on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:00 pm #
Thanks Claudia, you are very nice. And you are right, I’m sure it will be a nice moment….
nancyg on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:11 pm #
These are great stories – wow!
I have some jewelry, an emerald ring that belonged to my grandmother (dad’s side) bought for her while on vacation in Brazil. Another diamond ring has been handed down to the 1st born daughter on my mom’s side for 3 generations, to be passed down to my oldest. The gold bracelet my grandparents gave me on my 1st communion (I thought I was SO grown up!), the necklace w/the blue topaz (my birthstone) upon graduating from high school.
I kept my veil from my 1st communion & all 3 of my girls wore it. Also, my kids all wore my grandmother’s baptismal gown. My dad, his siblings, me & my brothers, now all our kids have been baptized in it. It’s super-small because “back in the day” kids would get baptized right away, within the first month or so after birth.
In my jewelry box, there is a little gold ring with a teeny tiny diamond chip in it. My oldest daughter (now 18) received it from husband on the same day he proposed to me. Mr. G got down on one knee and asked her if it was OK with her if he became part of our family. Then, he gave her the ring a.) so she wouldn’t be jealous and b.) he marrying both of us and getting a “twofer”.
Karen Rose on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:33 pm #
Claudia, I had to think on this awhile. While I am a packrat extraordinaire, I couldn’t think of a treasure like that off the top of my head.
Then I remembered my SIL’s t-shirt. She died tragically when she was 20, just a few months before her 21st birthday. She had a disease that had not been diagnosed and by the time it was, it was too late. One day she was talking to my husband and the next, she went into cardiac arrest. She was on life support for about 6 weeks before she died. I never got to say goodbye and I’d known her since she was a little 8 year old, bright-eyed girl.
No one wanted her ratty old University of MD School of Journalism t-shirt, so I took it and wore it around the house. It made me think of her when I did. I still have the shirt. I’m long since too full-figured to wear it, but I keep it in my closet. Youngest found it recently and I told her who it had belonged to and why we had to keep it. She never met her aunt, but I could see she also understood.
When I see it, touch it, I remember Diane, and that’s a treasure.
Karen Rose on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:34 pm #
Oh, Nancy, that is so beautiful. I’m all choked up and hearing that Brad Paisley song in my head – The Dad He Didn’t Have to Be.
nancyg on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:46 pm #
Yeah, K-Ro – he is the BEST guy!! His 15 phone calls to me today to “remind me” of things I need to do for a party tonight notwithstanding. He’d have to be to put up with all of my neuroses!
He formally adopted her on her 5th birthday after playing hardball with her biological dad. New friends & acquaintances don’t even know he’s not her biological father until it’s brought up in random conversation. I think she’s more like him than our other 2 daughters, lol. (They have the same attitude, mannerisms & sense of humor).
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 12:59 pm #
Oh, B, that is so sweet. What a moment!
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:01 pm #
Nancyg, I love the baptismal gown. It’s so rare nowadays to have one, and you’ve used this one over and over for the generations. That’s a lovely tradition you’ve started.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:03 pm #
Oh, Karen! What a lovely treasure! I’m so glad you kept the shirt, and that you have daughters to share it with. The aunt they never knew.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:05 pm #
NancyG, that is the most wonderful story about your husband! I’m so glad he ‘went to bat’ for her with her bio father and formally adopted her. Teary!
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:06 pm #
Well, shoot! Nancy tells us a lovely step-daddy story and Karen Rose hauls out the Brad Paisley song. My hankies are all in the laundry now. I’m graduating to bath towels. You all are killing me today.
karenmc on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:17 pm #
Thanks for sharing, Claudia.
I have all of the mementos my grandmother saved after my grandfather died at age thirty-four. His high school year books, a cigar box filled with condolence notes from his funeral (at the height of the Depression, so most of them are on just scrapes of paper), a gorgeous Valentine card he gave her…
I also have his postcard collection from about a hundred years ago. They’re beautiful cards, for the most part, and a few were written to him by HIS grandmother, a feisty, funny woman born in the 1850’s.
I really treasure all of these things, and even though I never knew my grandfather (I was born on the twenty-first anniversary of his death), I have a special connection with him.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:33 pm #
Karenmc, what a treasure you have in those old postcards. Wow. It must make you feel so connected to those who have gone before you.
karenmc on 04 Dec 2009 at 1:42 pm #
Yes, I do feel connected. I’ve ended up spending a few years doing family genealogy and have tons of information about both sides of my family. I absolutely do not think of Valley Forge in the abstract since I learned a grandfather many generations back wintered there.
Mary McCall on 04 Dec 2009 at 2:20 pm #
Grab tissue – blow nose. What a wonderful legacy to pass to your children!
nancyg on 04 Dec 2009 at 2:26 pm #
LOL – sorry peeps – I actually just went and downloaded the Brad Paisley song on iTunes. I’ve never heard that one before. I usually just go for the funny ones, like “I’m Gonna Miss Her”, “Celebrity”, and “Alcohol”.
The re-telling of Mr. G’s story today just cut him some slack for adding to my “to do” list today by about 5 errands, lol.
On a lighter note, do you think Tiger’s wife is going to keep the 3-iron for her daughter?? Pull it out of the closet one day with the newspaper/tabloid clippings?
The new/old joke (courtesy of aforementioned Mr. G)
So – the police interview Elin Woods and ask her how many times she hit Tiger with the golf club.
She says, “I really can’t remember, just put me down for a 5.”
(this is for those of you who’ve ever played golf with a cheater-pants who shaves strokes off his/her game)
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 2:40 pm #
karenmc, wow, Valley Forge! Talk about history coming alive! That is a remarkable bit of history you have in your family.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 2:41 pm #
Oh, NancyG, I’m glad you got that song. It’s so heart-warming…and just right for your family!
Amber Scott on 04 Dec 2009 at 4:31 pm #
The trunk my great grandmother brought over with her from Illinois to Nevada on a wagon train. She was thirteen and walked alongside the wagon and left her name on Independence Rock. One of my earliest memories is of my father lovingly painting the nails and other metal finishes gold. I wanted to help so badly. My dad died when I was thirteen. My mother gave me the trunk three years ago and sent it filled with chocolate gold coins and books for my children when they opened it. They call it the treasure chest now. And it is my greatest treasure.
Margaret on 04 Dec 2009 at 5:14 pm #
I’m impressed with your family history back to Valley Forge, karenmc. I live about an hour west of there. Beautiful place.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 6:05 pm #
Amber, wow! That’s wonderful! Do you have a photo of her name on Independence Rock? That would be a show-stopper! You really do have a treasure chest!
Alicia on 04 Dec 2009 at 6:38 pm #
Just got home from a day of Christmas Shopping! It was/is snowing in North Louisiana…not sticking though. Claudia!! My wedding was lavender!! My mother was a vision that day in her lavender dress! Definitely need an Amethyst Club!!
Speaking of afghans! There was a lady that went to church with my mom when I was born and she was nice enough to crochet me a baby blanket. And in that blanket one of the most infamous pictures of me was taken. I was laid out on the table screaming bloody murder! (I wish I could show y’all the pic) Anyway when I got married 8 years ago she crocheted me another blanket. She passed away about a year later after a looong battle with cancer. She was such a strong, generous, and happy woman, I just cherish those blankets!! I keep them both put away. As soon as I put out the “wedding blanket” my dog-children will think it is theirs to sit/sleep on.
Claudia Dain on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:13 pm #
You know, Alicia, my husband’s grandmother knitted us an afghan as a wedding gift. Big D was in raptures over it because for years it contained her scent. We used that afghan often, it lay at the foot of our bed, and his grandmother was delighted. One day, our first dog chewed a hole in one of the squares. I was devastated! You know what? Now I have an afghan that is a memory of a beloved grandmother *and* a cherished pet. I wouldn’t give up that hole for any amount of money.
You just never know what is going to become precious to you, do you?
Sabrina Jeffries on 04 Dec 2009 at 8:55 pm #
Aw, Claudia, that’s such a touching story! With its being Christmas, I’m reminded of the Advent calendar hanging my mom made for each one of us. When we were kids, we had this advent calendar–it was a big quilted hanging of a Christmas tree, with ornaments that were pinned on with safety pins. Since I think it was bought in Thailand, the ornaments were odd, but we loved pinning them on. We got to take turns pulling one out of the little pockets and pinning it on the tree each day. Several years ago, my mom made us all an advent calendar tree similar to the original. She’d kept the ornaments, so she split those up among the four of us and then made some more.
My sister-in-law one day said to me, “I don’t know why your brother likes that–he claims he knows every single one of the original ornaments.” I said, “He probably does. I know *I* do.” It was such a special part of Christmas that I will keep the remnants of it forever.