What was once an arduous task has become a treasure hunt of the best kind. I’m talking about cleaning out my parents house. The one they lived in for 50 years and it was stuffed with so many items.
While I wouldn’t wish this task on anyone, we got it done ( I still marvel at this) but as these things go we got tired and started throwing things into boxes without sorting them. We were nearing the end of our timeline and acted out of desperation.
Not long after we “finished” this task we moved, had things in storage, and lived with the bare necessities in a rental home waiting on our house to be finished.
So here it is several years later and I am still sorting through those boxes we packed in desperation. I thought I was done but they seem to be multiplying while I sleep.
I can hear all the organized minimalists shaking their heads, telling me to throw it all away.
Had I trashed everything without a second glance I would have missed out on becoming a memory detective.
Some things were easy to figure out given the distinctive handwriting of my father, mother and grandmother but other things remain a mystery.
The handwritten recipes in my grandmother’s recipe box were so fun.
The distinctive loopy handwriting of my grandmother made me smile and childhood memories came flooding back as I read her recipes for buckwheat pancakes (so yummy), yeast bread, coconut square cookies and the homemade custard that went into the handcranked ice cream maker.
I laughed at the recipe for High Ball Pot Roast as I am sure she drank a High Ball while preparing it. According to my siblings this was her secret to her fabulous fried chicken which we can’t seem to replicate. Maybe we need to drink more High Balls?
My mother’s handwritten recipes in her beautiful cursive reminded me of so many great meals but also of all the cards and letters she sent my way over the years.
The biggest surprise were the three recipes in my fathers distinctive penmanship. Hard to read but there is no mistaking it. The surprise is the man knew how to cook two things: scrambled eggs and tuna glop (tuna, cream of asparagus soup heated together and served over corn bread). It is as yummy as it sounds ..not! He could only make it if my mother made the cornbread ahead of time.
Priceless recipes in his crazy slanted script. All cookies and two of them I know my grandmother made so he and my Mom could munch on them on their road trip honeymoon.
My latest find was a gift box marked by the company logo “The Union” a now closed department store in Columbus, Ohio.
It contained several small skeins of yarn, and an unfinished mystery knitting project .
I ran my hand over the yarn and the half finished piece feeling connected to my mother wishing she had taught me how to knit. Looking further for clues and maybe a pattern I discovered, under the yellowed tissue paper, a card from her best friend, Louise Holtzinger, congratulating her on the birth of my brother. Obviously the box held a baby gift from Mom’s best friend.
Louise was a big part of my parent’s history. She dated my Dad at Penn State and because he was far from home soon became a family friend and hung out at Louise’s Altoona home despite their break up. Not sure who did the breaking up but her parents obviously retained custody of my Dad. They hoped for a long time that Louise and Dad would get back together.
Being ever so clever, Louise introduced my Dad to my Mom. And here is the shocker: They all remained friends for the rest of their lives. Lots to be learned from that alone.
The recipes are now in a scrapbook with photos of my Mom and Grandmother in the kitchen cooking, tables laden with yummy food and the yarn remnants will be crocheted into Christmas ornaments for future grandbabies. I wanted to make a baby blanket but the yarn is wool so it is scratchy and easily shrunk .
We haven’t quite figured out what this unfinished knitting project is or what we can do with it.
The card from Louise went into Mom and Dad’s scrapbook.
There are more boxes but I have the gift of time to linger over these a bit.
This is our history, our legacy, blessings in a box, memories amidst a mess.
Everything I find tells a story. I am honored to be the one to tell it.
As Always, Keep Triing!
Jennifer
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All grammatical and spelling errors are my gift to you and may you have a magical day or several 🙂
I was recently published in the book ” So God Made a Mother” and more recently I have a quote in the beautiful companion journal ( you can order it here) and I am working on a yet to be named novel. My six grandchildren keep me young and my very organized hubby Paul tolerates my very unorganized yiddle ( middle and youngest) self. Opposites do attract 🙂