Out With the New...

and in with the old. I have been known to get rid of new items in favor of old ones. New items don't have stories. They're empty. They have yet to be handled by human hands, used, adored or even disliked. I much prefer 'things' that have been used, that have memories. Even if it's something I picked up at a thrift store, and never knew who owned before me, I can still fill in memories with my imagination. I have quite a few things that belonged to my mom and dad. There are many items I let slip through my fingers after my dad died. At the time I thought I was avoiding issues, but I so wish I kept some of them. But who knows. Maybe they are now sitting on someone's shelf who appreciates used items with spirit.



My mom and dad had this bowl for as long as I can remember. Perhaps they used it in the restaurant they owned at the time I was born. I have vivid memories of my dad eating popcorn out of this bowl. This is the bowl he always used for his sourdough pancakes, and it is now used for my sourdough pancakes.


My dad's grill. My newer grill burned out, but his old grill still cooks up a good batch of pancakes.



And we will eat the pancakes on plates that belonged to my parents on a table that was in their kitchen. This is the table where my parents argued over the crossword puzzle every morning: mom always got it first so she could get her few answers in before dad finished it up. This is the table where I ate the last dinner my mom ever cooked. This is the table where I sat with my dad, crying, the morning after mom died.

See what I mean? They have stories. They have memories. These are sacred items.