Sunday, May 28, 2006

But wait! There's more

In my cleaning frenzy I forgot to look under the bed, which since I raised it has an additional 6 inches of vertical space in which to stack things. All of which should be carefully examined. The zippered under-the-bed bags I began cheerfully cramming with crap last fall and the contents of my gigantic suitcase which now serves as a storage unit will presently be under siege.

One or two things worry me, however. There are some things which I cannot use but which I cannot discard, known as family heirlooms. I have piles of little canvases painted by my grandfather, who was very enthusiastic but just not very good as a painter. I'm not going to hang them up, and they're not worth selling. So they live under my bed.
In the darkest recesses of my kitchen cabinets, I have about 12 or so beer glasses acquired (stolen, knowing his mischievous tendencies) by my father in Germany as souvenirs. Some of them are from little regional or town breweries which probably don't exist anymore, so they could have value to a beer collector. But how would I find out?

What makes an heirloom, anyway?

I am pretty sure that the clock that belonged to my dad's grandparents, which is over 150 years old and still works, is. It traveled a lot of miles to the frontier of Missouri and survived with its little glass door intact.

I am positive that the yards and yards of richly embroidered silk that were given to my grandmother when she left India are. From what I can tell, it's the pattern of a wedding sari, so it was a gift for a girl who was becoming a young woman.

The silver teapot on its stand is. The pictures of all the people I never knew are.
What the heck do I decide to keep of the nearer generations to make sure they get remembered too?

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