“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.” ― T.S. Eliot
Everything has a beginning, but not everything gets to start again. Today, my mother’s afghan is starting over – making its new beginning.
Mom crocheted the afghan years before I was born. She kept it on the back of our living room sofa, always ready for use. There were never any, “Do Not Touch” signs in mom’s house. She was way too practical for that.
So use it we did. My dad would take his Sunday afternoon nap under its loving warmth. I would use it on days when I was sick and couldn’t go to school.
I’d try to study, but even under her wonderful afghan it was hard to concentrate on my school work, so I spent most of the time looking at a painting over the fireplace. I watched this painting a lot from that sofa in those pre-TV days. The image transported me to a romantic village somewhere in Scotland.I could find more happiness in its small village than on my sick bed.
Brownie had grown up with me, so she knew how to find her way under mom’s afghan. I’d dream of the two of us making our way through the village, then down to the river where we’d catch some trout for dinner. Just a boy and his dog.
I never want to forget that sick boy, curled up with his dog, protected under his mother’s blanket. All the while dreaming of their adventures together in a far away village.
So today I’ve made the choice to bring the afghan down from the attic, joining mom’s painting. This way, Louisa and I can start our own fresh dreams of the village.
All together in our touch me please home because things are meant to be used, or be let go of. It’s making the right choice that’s important.
What else should I bring out? Maybe an old hobby or some abandoned dreams?
The best thing I could bring out would be old friends. I’ve kept some put away – for way too long.
What about you? What things are you saving? Shouldn’t you get them out, especially if they’re priceless?
What “Do Not Touch” signs surround you?
As always, the conversation starts here.
“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran
Epilogue
Atmosphere is the name of this hip hop duo from Minneapolis.
Stay for the end. It surprised me.
Well Bruce be thankful you had a mother who would let you lay down on that sofa! My mother would never let anyone lay down on our sofa under any circumstances. If we weren’t feeling well, we were in the bed. I am fortunate enough that most of the old family things are out for us to see and use. Just this Tuesday evening Beverly was showing some out-of-town dinner guests an antique wooden high chair that my mother bought in an antique store for $3 when I was born more than 74 years ago! Unfortunately her daughter says it… Read more »
Richard –
Our living room was the family gathering spot. The sofa was the easiest place for mom to keep an eye on me.
Yes, the products of today are safer and that’s good. Our children were dumped in the back of the family station wagon to roll around as they liked, and that wasn’t good. Maybe someone could bring your high chair up to code? Then grandson Will could join the dinner conversation in your chair. That might be best for everyone, even the chair.
Thanks for joining the discussion.
– Bruce
Well the antique high chair has its place in a corner of the den but there is a new up to 2017 code high chair by the table for grandson Will. I can also remember those station wagon trips! I can remember one where we put the porta crib in the back as a play pen for a trip to PA.
Richard –
I’m sure everyone feels better with Will in the latest model.. Safety is always a wise choice.
– Bruce
I call your den collected, and it is a collection of so many treasures that have surrounded you for so many years. All it needs is a “have a hank” pillow =-)
Rachel –
Yes, that room is a collection of memories for sure.
As for a Have-A-Hank pillow – that’s an interesting idea. I have memories of those individually packaged handkerchiefs, in all different patterns and colors. They were sold separately for a nickel when I was growing up. I didn’t know they made pillows.
Thanks for your comment.
– Bruce
Powerful message, Bruce!
In such a beautifully nostalgic fashion,thank you for reminding me of what is most important.
Janelle –
You are welcome. Putting something in a trunk for safekeeping until that distant day a grandchild and their life partner, still unmet, may want to use it has always seemed like a long shot to me. I’d rather pass down other things – the things that won’t be eaten by moths or go out of style – like love and compassion.
Love people, use things. The opposite never works.
Besides, I look at the afghan and remember my mother. That wouldn’t happen if it were in the attic.
Thanks for being part of the family,
– Bruce