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This morning, with the help of my 12-year-old son, Tony, I made the most interesting discovery about myself. Tony was in John and I's bedroom talking to me while I was making our bed. He asked me, again, who made the beautiful quilt that covers our bed. I told him that it was my friend, Tammy.
"Wow!" he said. "And this..." (he pointed to a mural that hangs on our bedroom wall) "...was made by Robin." "And this..." (he pointed to a tiny quilt that hangs on the rack above my bed) "...was made by who?"
"My grandmother, Maudie McCann," I said.
"Wow!" he said. "You've got stuff from your family and friends all over the place!"
And, you know what? HE WAS RIGHT!
(I never could understand people who were always wanting to redecorate their houses. I don't have much, but what I do have, I'm content with. And, even though none of it amounts to much, I'm a lot like Maureen O'Hara in "The Quiet Man." I always like having "...me things about me!")
It was then and there that I really started looking at the things that stay close at hand to me...and what treasures I discovered!
In our bedroom alone, there's the quilt made by my friend, Tammy, the mural made by my friend, Robin, the tiny doll quilt crafted for me, by hand, by my grandmother, Maudie, when I was 5-years old (she was bedfast for the last 25 years of her life and lived with us for a good many of the years before she died; the quilt was a "postage stamp quilt" made from 1-inch squares cut from the old flour-sack dresses that she wore during the depression of the 1930's, during the Dust Bowl of Western Kansas). Hanging below it, is the double wedding ring quilt that was started by my mother, and finished by my friend, Gayla. I discovered the quilt, one-fourth of the way finished, in a barrel, shortly after my mother's passing in June of 2005. My dad said that she had started it shortly before her death, and it was meant to be my Christmas gift that year. Needless to say, she wasn't going to be able to finish it, so my friend, Gayla, who is very gifted in the art of quilt-making, and who spent a lot of time with my mother discussing such endeavors, said she would be willing to take what was there, edge it as was, and make a mini-quilt out of it for me. She did. Then, instead of letting me pay for it as agreed upon, she hung on to the quilt, wrapped it up, and it became my Christmas present that year after all...from her AND my mom.
Then, there's the book on the head of our bed, HEARTS by Mary Emmerling, that was sent to me by my friend, Karen, in Canada. Karen died of stomach cancer years ago. Also on the head of our bed are the quilt runner that my friend, Bev, in Texas sent to me (a piece of bow-tie quilt that I can't remember the story on right now, but I remember was very special to Bev), and my Grandmother Viola's button jars...four short, stout, little, glass jars...one blue, one red, one yellow, and one green...each with flowers of the same four colors painted on the lids...and each containing buttons that my grandmother collected and carefully sorted into the four, basic colors, then put in the corresponding colored jars. They're still there today.
Coming on out around the corner of my room, next to the bathroom door, hangs the old, oval photo of my great-grandmother, Lorena Lewis Lemmons...still in its original frame. (I once had an antique dealer offer me several hundred dollars for the frame alone. I laughed and said, "No way!")
No, Grandma Lorena's picture was promised to me by Grandma Lorena's daughter, which was my Great-Aunt Tootsie when I was but a young girl. (Tootsie's real name was Ethel Mae, but she was dubbed "Tootsie" by her family when the song "Meet Me In St. Louie, Louie" came out shortly after her birth in the early 1900's. You know it..."...I'll be your tootsie-wootsie...we'll dance the hoochie-kootchie...if you'll meet me in St. Louie, Louie...meet me at the fair..."). Aunt Tootsie always said that the picture belonged to me, because of everyone in the family I reminded her most of her mother. On the night Tootsie died my mother and my Aunt Bev made a special trip to Tootsie's apartment just to make sure that no one else ended up with that picture. It's the only thing they knew for sure what Tootsie wanted done with. That was because every time the family gathered at Tootsie's house, she made sure and told everyone not to forget! LOL!
After making such a wondrous discovery this morning, I took a quick little tour through the rest of my house. Here are some of the things I discovered...
...a two-tier, glass tea-tray, a special picture, a clock, a lamp, and a stepping stone from my friend, Darla...two doilies lovingly crocheted by my friend, Pat...a picture framed in tartan, a miniature tea set, a unique, little set of window clingies, and a scenic calendar from my friend, Gaynor, in Scotland...a miniature picture and my Celtic cross necklace, which I rarely, if ever, take off, sent to me by my friend, Janet, in Belfast...a reminder of faith from my friend, Carla...a plate with an Irish blessing on it from my cousin, Christina, who passed away two months before my mother did...a bowl made from red clay and beautifully painted from our missionary friends, the Loaiza's, from Guatemala...two books on John and I's Scottish Clan histories and a crushed thistle brought back from Scotland with friends, Brian and Gayla...a Celtic drawing purchased and colored in for me by my young friend, Patsy...a plaque featuring the words of Ralph Waldo Emmerson from my friend, Laura...a clock brought back to us from Germany by our son-in-law, Patrick, before he was our son-in-law...and the list goes on and on...
Interspersed and intermingled among all these tiny treasures are loving mementos presented to me by my husband, my children, and grandchildren.
While it's true that, in the big scope of things, material things mean absolutely nothing to me, still, it's nice to have these small tokens of love and remembrances from those that have come before me, those that have gone on to see Jesus face-to-face ahead of me, those that are close at hand and heart to me today, and those that are near and dear of heart...no matter how far away they may be in physical proximity. I praise the LORD for each and every person that He has used in the past to make me who I am today, for every single person that He has used to touch my life in some special way...even if only but for a brief moment in time...and for all who make up this beautiful tapestry of life called family and friends.
~Rebecca
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