I received a package from my mother a few days ago. Inside was something wrapped very carefully in layers of foam and paper. Attached to it was a note from my Momma. Here is what she said;
“Jordi – This lamp was mine as a young child. I always loved it. I would like you to have it. Love, Mom”
My hands trembled as I gently removed the wrappings. I was pretty sure I knew which lamp this was, because I would lay on my Momma’s bed and admire it as a little girl. She would tell me how much it meant to her, and I loved it because it was part of who my Mom is. The memories tied to it make it more valuable than gold to me.
As the packaging fell away I saw I was right; it was the lamp I remembered! Somewhere along the way the shade was ruined and thrown away, but what a treasure. Here is a picture from up close:
It’s interesting to me the memories that stay with us as we grow. I don’t remember my parents being angry with me (well, sometimes, but that’s not what stands out ) or the hard times when they struggled to make ends meet. Rather, I remember reading books as a family at night, playing games, making maple syrup with my Dad, and taking walks in the woods. So many treasures! One of my greatest fears is losing those memories someday. I think that’s why I’m drawn to old things; they remind me of the good memories, and each has a history of it’s own. Now I have a way to hold some memories from my childhood in my hands and can share it with my children too!