I admit that I am nostalgic. While I wish to be the person who tosses meaningless stuff from my home and life, I tend to harbor many items from the past, items significant to me but often meaningless to anyone else. With both parents born in 1911 Dad died in 1971 before my children arrived and Mom passed when they were still quite young.
When I speak of them along with my grandmas and aunts, they are names, but a solid connection rarely exists. In the end, much of the “stuff” I hang on to is simply stuff. No, not everything but in reality, a lifetime of accumulation often becomes a garage sale nightmare or some trips to the dump. All the same, some stuff has value.
Let’s head to our family cabin to examine some stuff. Built in 1936 by my dad and grandpa, it is packed with memories. I wish I knew more about the construction because it truly is a miracle of stability.
Trees were felled and hewn, shingles shaved, timber and boards of knotty pine hauled in from points unknown, and all of this hoisted and aligned to create a log structure that has endured for 88 years.
Other than occasional re-chinking, adding a porch, installing cement foundation slabs, and general upkeep it survives. Neither new nor modern, memories abound and the thought of it collapsing one winter is not something I can fathom. Visiting friends love it – the history and the location — and when I’ve suggested some modifications most remark on how that would change the atmosphere, the nostalgic attitude.
A niece described our place as “old, dirty, musty, and smelly”. In some instances, she has made a correct observation, however, the odors translate to the cabin. Take, for example, the bookshelves.
The fancy one with glass doors came from my Uncle Charles, a lawyer. Perhaps the oldest text, circa 1890, is Pack’s Bad Boy. With a cloth cover, browning pages, and held together with string, my dad read it to us by kerosine lantern as we roared with laughter even when we knew the story inside out.
His dad, Grandpa Jehu (b. 1867) had read it to him. Other titles from that era, What a Young Wife Should Know (also available for the young husband) spike interest. Has anything changed in 125+ years? I decided that it’s time I read a portion these books (there are hundreds) so I hauled home a couple dozen to peruse this winter. A strange scent accompanies them, but I love it.
Other stuff I’d like to relocate to Winnemucca, but it is ours, not mine, and so I do not have that right. Some family members do toss at will, but my heart would be unable to commit such a travesty. Old pillows along with some blankets should go but let someone else be in charge (Did I really say that because there are folks that would love to dump it all!).
Other stuff includes converted shaving mugs now used for morning coffee, flour sifters from ages ago, Swanky Swigs from cheese and jelly purchase, long ago giveaways from gas stations (remember the wheat crests?). My dad built much of the furniture – bookcases, desks, and end tables – so those must stay. Army bunks from World War II still stand. The pottery bowl that has delighted us with huckleberry cobbler must remain. Old dishes should be retired as they are most likely no longer safe, but I won’t be the one to reject them any time soon. We have paper plates, cups, and utensils galore, but as their value is non-existent, I ignore them. Irons to heat on a wood stove are on display along with similar artifacts but why should they be pitched even though using them would be a trial? And who irons?
In the end, of course, this stuff is just old stuff. As I explained to another niece, we fight about strange things, my sisters and I, when in the end it is worthless other than for nostalgia. If it all disappeared sadness would fill me, but the memory of each item would stick forever.
I can’t say the same for my kids and grandkids, other than a photo Allison sent. It exhibited an old tablecloth of my mom’s. She loved the bright colors and her own memories of it, and asked if she might keep it. Of course!! There’s hope for a long future for this beloved stuff.