Monday, September 10, 2012

Special Guest: Reluctant Momma's Momma

Today it is my great pleasure to offer a guest post authored by my mother. She is a talented and prolific writer.  She is the most generous and life-affirming person that I have ever met. Everything that I am, everything about me that is good, I learned from her.  I love you, Mom!
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The Pitcher

I was given a white bone china pitcher for a wedding present more than 30 years ago by a classy, dear friend of my mother’s.  At the time I was not a fan of either bone china or classy pitchers but I did admire and respect my mother’s friend and was well aware of how much my mom loved and valued that pitcher.  Therefore I took to buying flowers weekly, showcasing them in my fine pitcher.  Often I would wipe away the dust with my forearm, replace the stray Lego pieces from the end table with the flowers and know how proud my mother would be when she came to visit.

Soon I began to appreciate the joy of having something fresh and beautiful in the room and weekly flowers were a must for me.  Regardless of what the house looked like, if there were fresh flowers—I was on top of things. Although I have since acquired more beloved vases, the white pitcher holds a special place in my heart. 

As I carefully cleaned it out today I took notice to all the damage that has befallen this thing of beauty.  I marvel at the delicate glue mark where my father-in-law repaired the handle with the skill of a surgeon.  I note the fine crack lines which no doubt occurs when expensive bone china is exposed to heavy use.  Inside there are spots which appear to be mildew, obviously resulting from continually supporting woody stems soaked in water.  There is a film which cannot be removed and probably should remain as it is probably what is holding the pitcher together. 

I ponder what my mother would think if she were to see the item today which some might say is ruined.  But I think she would be thrilled that it served me and my family so well and was a link to the beauty that results when art meets nature.  All I have to do is look at the empty pitcher and I can imagine the fragrance of lilacs or lily’s filling the room and it makes me happy.

I think of my children and I imagine they would think of this raggedy old pitcher as one of the most cherished and valued possessions I own.  Thirty-something years ago, I had a wedding registry, the pitcher was not on it or even on my radar as something I would have appreciated receiving and I’m sure I sent a requisite thank you note saying something like, yada yada yada.  But I would like to send a new thank you note to Mary Kelly in which I would say…How can I thank you enough for giving me a lifetime of joy that I may not otherwise have known?  

4 comments:

  1. This is lovely. Thanks for sharing Erin! I sure do miss endearing stories like this that Pat (your mom) would share at the lunch table.

    Wendy

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    1. Thanks, Wendy. I miss the lunch table too...maybe another story topic!

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  2. I am honored to be featured in the same collection with such a talented writer. Thanks for the post and for the love.

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  3. Pat, Maybe when Erin slacks off you can fill in for her - it was wonderful and reminded me of how much our Mother valued fine things from special friends.

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