I was mowing the lawn at my home the other day, and while I was
moving the lawn mower from the front yard to the back, I decided
to get a drink. Into the kitchen I went, lemonade from the fridge
and over to the cupboard for a glass. Up on the top shelf I saw
it, smiled, reached and pulled down what is without a doubt my
used to belong to my grandmother, Nana. She had a full set, and
probably got them from saving S&H Greenstamps (now thatís
going way back). And if not from there, they likely werenít expensive.
But the best lemonade I ever had came out of those glasses. Iíd
mow the lawn at her house, and dripping with sweat, come inside
when I was done. I didnít have to ask, didnít have to look. As
soon as I finished, Nana was standing there with an ice cold glass
time, those glasses became a part of visiting her house. I canít
explain it, but they just became my favorites. If she offered
me something to drink when I would visit, it had to be served
in one of those glasses.
passed away four months prior to my wedding. When we cleaned up
the apartment she lived in at the time, I saw the glasses and
passed them to my wife. ďDonít lose theseĒ I told her. They became
the water glasses for us at the head table of our wedding. And
now they are in my home.
suppose there are lots of things from my youth that I have no
mementos for. This just happens to be one I do. But when I try
to explain to my stepsons about asking questions and enjoying
moments as they pass, itís very difficult to explain how important
a glass might be to them one day. Itís like trying to explain
the significance of sheets drying on a clothesline.
yes, some of you will remember that pleasant smell. A cool spring
breeze comes through the windows into the house. Outside, sheets
are on the line, the scent of Downey filling the air. Clothes
drying outsideÖ one of the true signs of improving weather. And
itís gone. Today you donít see people hanging clothes outside
as much, forget about the smell that went along with it.
my office, directly above the monitor to my computer is a small
mouse. Itís made up of a flat rock, some felt for ears and a tail,
and tiny buttons for a nose. The whiskers have long since melted
off. For Christmas every year, my parents would give the kids
a few dollars to shop for presents. It became quite the chore.
You had to be economical, and you really tried to find something
people would ďoohĒ and ďaahĒ over on Christmas morning. Once at
a church bazaar, I spotted this very mouse on a table. I couldnít
tell you the reason why, but it seemed perfect for Nana and a
bargain at twenty-five cents.
I gave it to her, she placed it on the top of her stove (hence
the melted whiskers). It remained a constant, visible display
in her kitchen for easily over twenty-years. She had a few items
like that in her house. She was famous for saying everything was
beautiful and she cherished anything her grandchildren gave her.
Even a couple of gifts given as a joke became treasures to her.
now they are treasures for me.
it is the little things.