The Vase


My daughter decorated a vase for my birthday and arranged flowers in it.  I love the fact that she took the time to make it, but the significance goes beyond the simple act of caring.

She made copies of recipe cards that my mother had written and spaced them around the vase.  The recipes were familiar to me, things I remember my mother making.  One was even a recipe of mine, and  Mother had written my name on it.  Seeing my mother’s handwriting immediately made me cry.  Her scrawls on paper were utilitarian for her.  It was simply the way she stored her favorite recipes, handwritten on cards filed in a recipe box.  She never realized the significance those cards would have for me one day.

She has been gone since 2001, and I miss her terribly.  She was a wonderful cook and loved sharing recipes.  Her stained, tattered cookbook is one of my prize possessions, and I especially love the notes she wrote in the margins.

I also have a ledger that my dad kept of household expenses.  Again, utilitarian for him, but priceless for me.  Why?  Because it is written in his distinctive hand.

I have a luggage tag that my grandmother wrote her name on.  Such a simple, practical thing to do, but a treasure for me because it is her handwriting.  It evokes memories of her smile and all the special time I spent with her.

So I’m wondering today what my family will cherish when I am gone.  What little thing will have my imprint on it so profoundly that it brings a tear and a smile at the same time?  What will trigger a special memory of times shared?

In this age of technology, paper is being phased out.  I am on that road myself.  But what will be decoupaged on a vase?  What will evoke the smells I remember and love that I feel when I read my mother’s recipe card?  How will we make an indelible mark if we don’t write on paper?

My handwriting is unique to me.  No one else writes the way I do.  Maybe it is time to put the computer, iPad, and iPhone aside once in a while and write a note.  Would anybody care?  Would it simply be tossed in the trash with the recipient wondering why in the world I just didn’t send an email?  I don’t know.  But I think I may give it a try.  It might just wind up being a treasure some day.

Advertisements

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. momandprophet
    Oct 09, 2012 @ 10:30:45

    Really glad you like it, Mom. Hugs.

%d bloggers like this: