Shelf Life

I find myself living in a house with a lot of built-in display space. Previous residences having been heavy on bare walls and light on decorative touches, this is the first time I’ve had to sooth empty shelves and glass fronted cabinets crying out to be filled.

In response to the uncomfortably naked shelves, I set about rounding up various trinkets that had been hidden in cupboards and closets for so long I was surprised to see them.

A vase here, a photo album there, and me being me, a couple of stuffed animals and I was done. Bits and pieces of a life laid out before me. A pastiche of family, and trips, and time.

Each object holds a memory, a story. Most of them G-rated except for one small glass dish, edged in blue. Entirely unexceptional unless, like me, you happen to remember the hour preceding its purchase πŸ™‚

One item though, doesn’t have a story.

I don’t know where it came from or when. It was just always there, a doorstop in my parent’s house. I look at it now and I wonder…

But there’s no one to ask. Not any more.

Aimer at Amazon

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13 thoughts on “Shelf Life

  1. That’s why it’s vital to visit the generations before us before we find ourselves next in line. I have a 92-year-old aunt who has a suitcase full of old photos. I visit her twice a month and ask her lots of questions. She’s the last of her generation. Once she’s gone, so will a lot of memories be lost too.

    As for those hours preceding the purchase of that glass dish, Aimer, will they too one day be lost? Or will they live on in a book?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Smart, Hugh, to ask the questions while your Aunt is still around to answer them. I bet she loves your visits and the chance to talk about her past. I hope you’re taking notes πŸ™‚

      As to my own past, it will probably stay locked in that dish and our memories…or some version of it could pop up in the next book πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. That is maddening – when you have a question but no one to ask. It was like that for me after my mom died, even before I lost my dad. If you asked my dad anything he would say, “I don’t remember what I had for breakfast,” as if that somehow explained forgetting the past. I mean, I often don’t remember what I had for breakfast, but I can tell you what I wore to my first dance in sixth grade, and I can sing just about any song that I listened to between 75 and 85.

    I would love those shelves. I could display all my Furbies and my gingerbread person collection.

    I love Hugh’s idea of giving the glass dish story a place in your book!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Yes, that’s just one of the many things I should have said or done when my mom was still around…

      LOL! Yes, now that Hugh’s planted the idea in my head I may have to tweak that “dish episode” and slip it into my next book…

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Of all the objects displayed in my apartment, only one has a worthwhile story: a carved, wooden scarecrow bird. I saw it 40+ years ago in a shop window and laughed, because it reminded me of Ignatz Mouse from the Crazy Cat comics. At that age, it didn’t occur to me I could buy something like that just because it made me happy. The friend who was with me that day later presented me with a box that contained the carved bird. Best present I ever received.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I have a thing about jugs (don’t laugh) – jugs as opposed to vases. I treasure 3. One I bought in Spain aged 16, one from France we drank wine from in a restaurant, and a Victorian farmhouse jug which belonged to my father’s family.
    Perhaps the iron press could double as a dangerous weapon?
    JP

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Jugs (the ‘I’m not laughing’ kind) are better than vases. They just seem to have more to say especially when they have a great memory behind them πŸ™‚

      The iron press could be a weapon…if only I had better aim πŸ™‚

      Like

  5. Lovely. I imagine all the tucked away things being VERY excited to now have a spotlight. And the iron is the grand Mystery Lady that everyone is enamoured with but too intimidated to approach…so a mystery she remains….😊I bet it’s looking beautiful. Happy decorating and Cheers!!! πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think it looks pretty good, but then most of these things mean something to me…to someone else, they’re just junk.
      I’m realizing, as I help my mother-in-law pack her stuff to move, that “junk” is s relative term πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

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