Among her things were pins and broaches and watches...but I am most interested in these stamps and decorations from the bottom of her jewelry box.
No doubt childhood me peeked into this box over those early years and perhaps that's why the silver leaves feel familiar? What I didn't notice then was how prominently my grandfather's photo was featured among her treasures and keepsakes. Of course it was. He died 25 years before she did, but even childhood me knew they were smitten with each other.
I suspect these items are connected to missing him, loving him. From letters they wrote to each other? Silver leaves from an anniversary party? They wrote letters whenever they were apart, especially during WW2. And they also loved a good party.
Philosopher Jane Bennet might say these things are not waste, not simply what is left over after a life, but instead possessing their own power: they are vibrant matter. Bennett's philosophy aims to promote more responsible and ethical human engagement with our world. It's easy to see how her position relates to resource recovery and environmental stewardship, but she also speaks to the interconnectedness between ourselves and so many many things. That makes sense to me.
For some, these items may not conjure much curiosity, but to me they are my grandmother's stories, ones I will never know but can somehow imagine. We all know the power of stories; sometimes that power comes from the things we touch, we see, we linger over, the things hidden in books and boxes and bags and pockets and desk drawers, and the memories they evoke...vibrant matter indeed.
Dear friends, what things, what tokens might tell your stories?
...things can be addictive, most of us have too many of them!
ReplyDeleteAgreed.
DeleteA lot of "things" I have because I like them also have no sentimental value and are easily parted with, these days. I possess MANY items and photos that belonged to my ancestors and I care what happens to them after I'm gone, but I sometimes wonder if I've ascribed too much meaning to them. Perhaps they were only of as much importance to their original owners as some of my stuff is to me: not much. This idea is helping me let go and not suffer the chagrin of fearing that someday they may be picked up at a yard sale and no one will know anything about their story. Meanwhile I cherish them only because I know who they belonged to. -Kate
ReplyDeleteI too think a lot about these things.
DeleteI have a box where I keep odd things, like a mask from the pandemic, the tooth of a grandson, swimming report cards, stuff like that. Someone can sort it out when I die:) It'll give them something to do instead of just bitching about me.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it interesting what we hold on to?
DeleteWe all have our little boxes of inexplicable treasures, don't we? Soul tokens.
ReplyDeleteWell said.
DeleteI have different boxes with different things in them. I have written little notes about the things in the boxes for my daughter so she knows where I got there, who they belonged to before me ect.
ReplyDeleteSuch an excellent idea. Insert fist bump here.
DeleteI should gather all my treasures into one place, instead of having them scattered around the house.
ReplyDeleteAlso a great idea. Me too.
DeleteMy bigger things (grandma's milking stool) have masking tape under them to explain their existence and value. My mom had a sterling ring with a post and 3 circulating different sized rings that went round and round the little post. Every grandchild played with it when sitting on her lap. After she died, I found it partly smashed at the back of her bathroom drawer. Gotta fix it for my new grandson to play with now. Linda in Kansas
ReplyDeleteThere's a legacy to things, isn't there?
DeleteA box full of stories that tell us what people value. I have old photos that my mom took many years ago and I enjoy seeing the people I knew back in their younger days. A priceless present indeed.
ReplyDeleteOld photos are such fun time-travel.
DeleteDelightful keepsakes. I dread to think what my 'stuff' would say about me.
ReplyDeleteI'm curious about that too...might dare explore it more....
DeleteYour post really got me to thinking about things. I went to your link and read about your grandmother in the photo with your mother on the bicycle. I used to tell my students that photographs really do tell a story, and they become a part of history. Sometimes a personal history, sometimes a national history. I had them create a photo essay on the Great Depression and I got them to investigate the power of photography. I always enjoyed that unit, and your post brought that memory back to me! I have a bunch of rocks on my dresser that I got in Iceland on a black beach. Most people would find it odd that I have small pebbles and little rocks on my dresser, but for me they are a symbol of survival, of marching on when things get tough. I love the smooth feel of them, and the various black and grey colors splashed across the top of my dresser. PS: Your blog is great.
ReplyDeleteSymbols of survival...I love that! Thank you, Michael.
DeleteOne thing is an embroidery that my grandmother made, probably in the early 1900s. My mother framed it, and it is hanging in our guest room. Sue has various teacups. She knows their provenance.
ReplyDeleteProvenance...I was looking for that word! Thank you for leaving it here for me.
DeleteThe idea of 'vibrant matter'—that these objects aren't just dead things but vessels for stories—really resonates. There’s something both haunting and comforting about holding a token from a life you only partially know. It’s the ultimate human impulse to want to touch the past, even if we can’t fully map it.
ReplyDeleteI love your map metaphor here...these objects are indeed like maps to places we have and haven't visited.
DeleteMy lava lamps and records, of course. But more than anything, I'd say, my blog.
ReplyDelete