Stories
There’s an old saying that says, “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.” As I look around our home, a lot of people would say most of our things fall into the junk category, and that would probably be true if it weren’t for the stories behind our things.
There’s a plant in the corner of our deck that we’ve had almost as long as we’ve been married. Jilda’s mom gave it to her, but her mom got it from Jilda’s grandmother Mammie. It’s called a bleeding heart and is as white as fine porcelain with what looks like a red tongue sticking out from the center.
We’ve tended that flower like a baby cutting teeth. I’d give anything to hear Mammie tell how she got the plant, but we never asked and she never said. And now it’s too late.
A few years ago I interview an octogenarian from Mountain Brook. Her house was old and not much to look at outside, but inside it was filled with treasures. Everywhere I looked there were photographs, books and paintings that looked very old.
She brewed some hot mint tea to sip while we chatted. As we drank from antique china cups, I asked her about a tiny figurine about two inches tall on her coffee table. The little mummy looked like it had been carved from bone.
“Oh this,” she said picking put the piece. “My father gave it to me many years ago.”
She went on to explain that one of her father’s clients got the figurine from one of the pyramids while on an expedition to Egypt in the 1920s.
When this lady passes on, her things will likely be thrown into a bin and sold as junk at a yard sale and the stories lost forever.
Jilda and I will be in the same boat someday. When I look around my office, there are so many things with interesting stories.
Take the pencil holder on Jilda’s writing desk, for example. It’s a small cedar cup with eight sides. But on each side are tiny hand-carved pieces of colored wood that form an intricate design. A friend of ours who is a filmmaker picked the pencil holder up at an open-air market while shooting a documentary of the Syrian peace talks back in the 1980s.
Wouldn’t it be cool to put a chip into the things we love that could tell their story?
When we are gone, the relatives left will sort through our things and wonder why this odd assortment of things meant enough to us to keep. They won’t know what’s junk and what’s treasure because it’s the stories that make the difference between cost and value.
Rick Watson is a columnist and author. His latest book Life Changes is available on Amazon.com. You can contact him via email at rick@homefolkmedia.com.