my mother's apron

my mother's apron -- how it has survived all these years is beyond me. i have a photo of her wearing it when my brother was a baby (he turned 60 this past january). it was christmas time and they were sitting on the floor near the tree; my father playing some toy saxophone; my brother in his greenish overalls reaching for the silver tinsel on the tree; my mother looking on; her curly dark hair held back with a comb. it's an amazing photo capturing a moment in time.

and i still own the apron; i use it when i'm washing dishes or cooking a meal and yes, it looks like it's 60 years old and has seen better days. but it was my mom's and wearing it makes me feel close to her ...


how is it that a piece of cloth shaped and sewn into an apron could give such a feeling to me? i feel the same way about the ruby red pitcher that was my grandmother Daugherty's. i don't use it very often, but i know she used it and when i hold it in my hands, i am reminded of the person who's strength and character formed the little boy into the man who became my father. i am reminded of the stories told about her by her children over the years. i never knew her, but yet i did, through those stories, and holding that piece of red glass in my hands and knowing that her hands touched it as well, gave me some comfort.

and when i sit at my oak library table, i am reminded of the woman and the man (my parents) who refinished it so lovingly and allowed me to use it for years as my sewing table. it is now my desk. several times ppl have made some comment about taking it from me because of its beauty. it's a heavy piece, not easily moved -- even two strong young men will struggle with it -- but my parents moved it from the auction house to their home and there refinished it; rubbing the tung oil into its pores to bring out the natural beauty of the wood with their own hands.

we're not supposed to hold onto material things, things of this world, because we can't take them with us when we die. i can't help but feel some attachment to these items for the memories they evoke and the connections to ppl (some i knew in this world and others i know only through stories) whom i love dearly. it's not that i want to take them with me when i die -- no, i want to leave them here for those who come after me to touch and live with and use and feel those connections as well. but life now is so modern and full of minimalism that i know for some this seems like just junk that needs to be tossed out for what is new ....

i have a friend on facebook who takes old items -- things that ppl have discarded -- and she refurbishes them ... brings them back to life .... to use in her home in extraordinary ways. i applaud her for putting so much work into the old and savoring the beauty that she can see under the dirt and years of wear. i love the fact that something that someone long ago used and loved is being used and loved again. another person is putting their mark on it ... a new connection is being made ...