I’ve lived my life surrounded by the things that others have touched--made or used—loved by their hands.
Some of those hands I touched—some were gone long before I came here—but I love those hands just the same…
Things worn on significant occasions…
…pretty things used in in Victorian days…
The 1930s piano we use daily, a gift from my great-grandmother to her daughter, my grandmother, when my mother was born…
…complete with the baby teeth marks remaining from my mother’s teething days, lovingly left as a physical reminder of days never to come again…
…everyday items essential to looking their best…
…the very old glazed pipe of my plantation-living 3rd-great-grandmother from Virginia…
…those ever-important keys to everything—opening houses I’ve never been inside of and cars long since idled…
…lockets and watches—treasures dearly treasured and worn every day—now tarnished and still—but treasured even more dearly…
…baby booties created by nimble hands with hook and needles in anticipation of a new generation to love…
…beautiful laces of all kinds—collars and trims, tablecloths and doilies—made and used by the the skilled hands of many generations of mothers before me…
…satiny baby blanket lovingly quilted for my baby mother by an auntie that would never have babies of her own…
…glasses worn by my little-girl grandmother—the sweet round spectacles of the 1920s…
As I walked through my house this quiet morning—seeing these and oh, so many more evidences of other lives--I feel surrounded by the love of all those I can no longer see….
And I am touched.
Julie
