The Things We Live With

My house is an accumulation of things not only that I’ve collected over the years but of objects that my ancestors collected over generations. I was just looking at two matching cloisonné vases that my Auntie Virgina purchased on one of her trips to Asia. As I gazed at these cherished possessions I wondered where she was and what she was thinking as she made her purchase. As a child I used to see these vases and the matching lamp that she displayed on the upright piano she’d placed against the wall papered in Chinese red silk in her formal living room. This room was in the big white pillared house in Akron, Ohio. Visiting that house as a child left me with only pleasant memories. It was always a party no matter how many or few of us were there. Sometimes when I’d be spending time with her in her boudoir she’d let me play in her huge walk in closet. I used to love staring at the collection of shoes she had marched up the stairs to the attic which was hidden there. Auntie Virginia had shoes and hats and gloves to perfectly accessorize every outfit. One of the things I cherished most about her was her absolutely perfect poise in every social situation.
I remember my mother telling me a story of when she was in her early twenties, attending seminary in NYC and had gone home for a visit. She admitted that my Auntie Virgina (who is actually my great Aunt) was the place that my Mom more or less called home as her mother, my great Aunt’s sister, was very wealthy and represented to my Mom the life she’d grown up with and lost as my Grandmother had divorced her husband in the 40’s for having cheated on her. Anyway my Mom was very young and firmly into living her life by the standards that she was enamored with at the time. She’d found God and so would not deign to let an alcoholic beverage pass her lips. My Auntie Virginia took her aside at one of her parties where my Mother would not lower herself to hold a cocktail glass and was fond of saying things in a haughty tone like, “No I would NOT like a drink. I don’t believe in alcohol.” Auntie said, “You will not make my guests uncomfortable with your lifestyle choices. I don’t’ care what you have in your glass but you will walk around with something in your hand. You will not subject my guests to your condemnation of their life choices. Now get a drink of some description and stop judging.” I heard this story at a very young age and learned tolerance and acceptance from it. My path is mine and no one else’s.
So when my beloved Auntie bought her cloisonné was she on the cruise through the Orient (as it was then called) that I have charted on a map in her hand and stored in the out of date world atlas book that she once owned that now rests on my bookshelf?
We pass through this life so quickly and some of what we leave behind are the objects that remind those that loved us of how we lived our lives and what they meant to us.
I sleep today in the bed that my Grandmother slept in for most of her adult life and my clothes are stored in the same chests that once held her clothes during her passage through this life. On my living room wall hangs the portraits of her Grandparents, my great, great Grandparents. In my cupboard rests the china that she hand painted in the 30’s. In the same unit is the crystal that was her wedding crystal and my silver was my great grandmothers wedding silver. Paintings adorn my walls that both my Grandmother and her mother, my ‘little Grandma’ painted. (She said to me many a time, “I don’t know where your talent comes from.” In the arrogance of my youth I took this as a compliment not realizing at the time that it came from her.) These are the things that anchor me to my past and honor me with being their keeper during my time here reminding me of the wonderful people that I come from and the standard that they imbued in me to live up to.
One day my possessions will be in the hands of others that I loved and hopefully will give them joy at my remembrance. Every day I try to make my choices those that accumulate into a life well lived.