What We Keep
Objects seen, collected, and left behind on a sunny weekend on the North Fork.
The weather has officially turned, and with it, the prime time for yard sales has arrived. We’ve been on the North Fork of Long Island this weekend, and as we’ve driven around, we’ve followed signs and stopped to check some out. On several occasions, homes were being cleaned out by adult kids whose parents had passed away. Pieces of lives lived and treasures from decades past were scattered on lawns, folding tables, and across sofa cushions available for a bargain to whoever would give them a loving home and a second life.
Carolina and I came across many things we liked, but walked away with very few photographing things we liked (but didn’t buy) to remember them. She spotted these little hand-painted ceramic buttons—how adorable are they?
Just down the road from us, items were scattered about a neighbor’s lawn with a giant sign spray-painted with the word “FREE”. We stopped by and spoke to the two sisters who were emptying the house they had grown up in, the house their parents lived in until their recent deaths. Not only did they encourage us to take anything we wanted from the lawn, but they also invited us inside to see what else they had in case something caught our eye.
As we entered the house, they shared stories about what we saw: “I’m bringing this table to my house. We ate all our meals around it growing up,” one sister said.
“My parents bought this rotisserie machine and only used it once—please, take it!” the other sister said, as Carolina wrinkled her nose. I thanked them and said we wouldn’t make good use of it.
We picked up this beautiful plate for a friend who collects ceramic plates:
And this amazing kitty cat teapot for my cousin, a cat-lover with a big kitchen.
And this 1950’s radio to donate to my new friend Denny at The Museum of Interesting Things (which will surely be the subject of a future newsletter).
As we walked from room to room, it got me thinking about the things we keep. They’re not the most valuable, they’re the most memorable. They’re the items that bring us back to a moment in time and connect us to a memory that makes us smile.
I told Carolina about when my Mom and her sisters cleaned out my grandparents’ house. I remember how sad my Mom was and how, at the end, after the sisters took the things they wanted to keep, she invited us in to see if there were any items we wanted. I don’t recall taking anything that day, but I do recall that, for all the years and all the time I spent at my grandparents’ house, I never went down into their basement. They lived in a small house, a ranch with a breezeway connecting the house to the garage, where I’d play cards with my grandmother. Beside the breezeway, hidden from the view of the street, was a clothing rack that looked like an open umbrella where she’d hang her delicates to dry. Old wooden clothespins were scattered about the now-empty rack. Back inside the house, I paused in front of the basement door.
”Mom, is there anything in the basement?” I asked.
“Oh yes, lots, but none of it was Grandma’s,” she said.
I opened the door and cautiously stepped down into the completely unfamiliar space. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the low light, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. The basement looked like a 1950’s speakeasy: vinyl barstools, a bar, vintage glassware, and Formica tables lined with chrome. My grandparents weren’t drinkers; if they drank anything, it was a bottle of wine. But oh, if my cousins and I knew about this secret bar—think about the fun we could have had!
My mom rescued a round mirror that hung above my grandmother’s vanity in her bedroom, and it stayed in the basement of my parents’ house for years. When Michael and I moved to our current apartment, I brought it with us. I love seeing it daily and having my grandmother’s reminder carry into my days.
I don’t need a mirror to help me remember my grandmother, but the daily reminder brings joy to my life, and isn’t that what the things we keep are all about?
Words of the Week
“To love objects is to love life.” ―Theodore Roethke, Straw for the Fire: From the Notebooks of Theodore Roethke
Photo of the Week
A portrait of rocks and seashells we found at the beach. There’s something peaceful about looking at these patterns in nature and the combination of calming colors that can be found on the shoreline.
Such a beautiful post that makes objects of days gone by e alive and assume new relevance. And, oh that cat teapot!
Loved this post. And of course thank you for thinking of me for the plate.