Family Heirlooms

I’ve been spending time the last couple of weeks helping my step-mom pack up her house in preparation for her move to North Carolina.

She and my dad had their house in Lincoln built about 13 years ago. There are a lot of memories in that house alone: Christmases and other holidays, family gatherings, spending time with my dad during his chemo treatments, and while we lived with them when we moved back to Lincoln in 2018.

I’m sad that it sold, for sentimental reasons, but happy she is going someplace she wants, and that wonderful new people will have an opportunity to make their own memories there.

During this process, my emotions have been on the craziest rollercoaster imaginable. Packing things up that belonged to TAMMY JORDAN them, to my dad, and to familymembers I never met. It’s been a trip down memory lane in some cases, and a chance to learn about family history I never knew before.

Memories themselves are heirlooms. The actual items are heirlooms. Put them both together, and they create family heirlooms. Pieces of those heirlooms have been passed onto family members, others will be passed down later. I’m grateful to be learning the history behind some of these new-found treasures.

One thing I found while cleaning out my dad’s desk was an old address book. I wasn’t sure what it was, but as soon as I opened it I was gifted with a letter my Uncle Jack wrote to my Grandma Hazel in 1972. Throughout the pages of the address book I saw names that made me smile, and remember. I saw notes about my mom’s parents, and even a note my grandma wrote eight days after I was born. “She’s going to be a talented actress.” It makes me smile to read what she thought I might become someday.

A couple of the things I remember during my childhood with my parents was showing dogs with my mom, and my dad’s adult beverage of choice being Amaretto Disaronno. Imagine my delight when I asked to have the decorative tin container from his home that particular bottle of alcohol came in, and finding inside it all of the show ribbons for one of our dogs named Topper. Topper was born in our home and was shown by my mom, my dad and myself at one point. He then went on with a professional handler who helped him receive his American and Mexican Championships. When my parents divorced, Topper went to live with my dad and Linda. These ribbons also have my mom’s writing on the back of each of them as to the show placement, etc. It’s like history written and stored in a bottle (well, a decorative tin, in this case). The tin now resides in my kitchen, decorating the top of some cabinets. I decided to leave those ribbons in there for now, until I go visit my mom. I’m sure she’ll appreciate them as much as I do – maybe more.

We all have these family treasures of some kind, somewhere in our family’s homes, storage facilities or, in some cases, under our noses. Yet we don’t even know the value of these heirlooms, and I’m not talking monetary value.

I don’t have many regrets about the time I had with my dad. I moved here to be close to him and I’m grateful for all the moments we had. But the one thing I do wish is that I’d asked more questions, and that he’d told me more about some of those trinkets, and the memories he had of them. It’s not the things themselves that are necessarily the importance piece, but the history that goes along with them, or the events and memories they spark.

Linda’s mom, who I refer to as Grandma Bette, typed little notes and stuck them to some of the items that filled my parent’s cabin. Notes about photos, where items came from, and who they may have belonged to in the family. While the notes aren’t especially the prettiest thing, I appreciate the “backstory.” I appreciate that she took the time to type those little notes, to share her life and history with the people in the present, especially since she is no longer here.

All of this has really made me think about some of the things I have in my home that contain memories and family histories, and the things I would like my kids and future generations to know. I want them to know the stories behind the pieces, and why those stories from our family are important. My hope is that some of these things will be passed down from generation to generation, with those historical stories. Who knows, maybe they will find a tin or decorative box that has something they remember from their childhood, and it will make them smile. In the meantime, I’m brainstorming ideas to record the memories now, so members of my family will know the value and the history of something they might find in my home someday.

While I end the coming week by saying goodbye to their cabin, which welcomed me to Lincoln so many years ago, and the things inside it, and by wishing Linda the best in her new adventure, there will be smiles, there will be tears and there will be memories. There will be the closing of this chapter and the beginning of a new one, and hopefully, the making of more family heirlooms along the way.