A Little Piece of My Own History

I think one of the hardest things for a family member to do after a loved one dies is to sort through their things. Every scrap of paper, every folded sock, every dusty box holds a different memory that can make you burst out laughing or break your heart all over again.

This past weekend, Tim and I took some time to go to my grandma Halter's house to pick up the curio cabinets and lawn furniture that my mom said were ours and to see if there was anything else we would like to keep. I mentioned to Tim, while sorting through the stacks of jewelry that my grandma owned, that it felt as though we were stealing. When I repeated this to my mom she said that a lot of the family had felt the same way. We know that grandma would want her things to stay with someone, but we also knew just how important every little thing was to her.

It wasn't difficult to find things that I wanted to keep. There was some beautiful cut crystal pieces that I loved, as well as a chair that I thought looked really cool. I was drawn to a metal jewelry box and gold mirror in the spare bedroom. Brenden became the new owner of a few cap guns and Lauren has a new Lissi doll. We found a few things for our kitchen and Tim was intrigued by the clock in the bedroom.

The Lissi doll with her "adoption" papers...all in German.

(Side note: The clock is actually one that my parents bought in Germany when we lived there in the early 1980's. My mom said that they had a friend whose family still lived on the communist side of Berlin and she was able to get them two different clocks. We aren't sure who the maker is, but I'm really glad that we have it now.)

Of course, there were also odds and ends that will always remind me of my grandparents. The trivet from the kitchen, as well as the tiny Tupperware cups that I always thought were so neat. A Tom Mix Museum sign and the hand painted Buddha that my grandma made long ago. A few old photographs, including one of my grandma that was made into a calendar, and the green hat with a white feather that is one of my favorite memories of my grandpa.

One of the last things that I convinced Tim to move was a side table from the den. I thought it would work really well in our eat in kitchen, which will now be more of a sitting room. (We never used that table. By the way, Justin it's waiting for you!) When I mentioned to my mom that we were bringing it home she was much more excited than I expected. Without knowing it, I had chosen a piece of furniture that my grandparents bought right after they moved into their house in Dewey, which was at least 50 years ago.

I feel very lucky to be trusted with these tiny pieces of my family's history. I feel blessed that every day I will be able to glance at that silly hat and smile. More than anything, I feel a sense of peace knowing that these things are with me.