to remember

In my book, The Little Things, my heroine, Rochelle, faces the daunting task of sorting through her beloved foster mother’s things after her passing. One night a neighbor stops by and asks if she might have some little thing to remember Bessie by. I’ve done that, too. When we lose someone dear to us their things become precious. Not so much for what they are, as for the memories they evoke.

Years ago, after my grandmother passed, I was invited to choose something from her home, something to remember her by. I went through her books and thought of long summer days curled up beside her on the porch swing. I considered various pieces of costume jewelry, remembering the fun of playing dress-up. Then, in the kitchen, I spotted her juice pitcher. I’d always loved the little pitcher, frosted glass with hand painted fruits on the sides. Grandma did not use it often, that I can remember, but somehow it unlocked the warmest memories of time spent in Grandma’s kitchen. Of Saturday mornings sitting in the breakfast nook, looking out over the thicket of pine trees my grandfather had planted many years before. Of countless games of cards and stories of her turn-of-the-century childhood that I enjoyed at Grandma’s table.  Yes, the little juice pitcher was just the right thing.

Throughout the years I have called many places home, but the juice pitcher has always claimed a place of honor in my kitchen. Even now, as I take it down from the cabinet to wash it, memories of my lovely Grandma echo down through the years. And though, like Grandma, I rarely use it, it will always be one of my favorite possessions.

Do you have a special something like that? I’d love to read about it in the comments.