Milk cans, doorknobs and space clocks

Last weekend was an interesting convergence of changes. As my grandma started living in a new house, I was tasked with packing up and shipping what was left in her old house of my mom’s things that I acquired after her passing four years ago. At the same time, the family is also integrating into our lives belongings of my Uncle Carl who passed away last year. From each one of these life changes, I have wanted particular items to have as remembrances of people and places –my mom, Uncle Carl and my grandma’s old house. I found it interesting to think about why we want to have physical items to help us remember people and feelings of the past.

As I sorted through my mom’s things, there were several that I felt absolutely no connection to – A couple of collectible bears wearing cute outfits, some needlepoint patterns and lots of frames after I took the pictures out. I put these in the donation pile – or even the recycle pile for things not necessarily fit to donate. But, I found several things that I didn’t want to part with, including an embroidery of a lovely poem about children that I believe my mom made, a small wooden knick-knack shelf she made and gave to my grandma when she was in middle school – this was a new discovery for me - and of course the milk can. I remember when my mom brought home the milk can when I was a young kid. She set it in the hallway near the front door to keep it “for now” until she decided where she wanted to keep it permanently. There it sat the rest of the time she lived there – more than 35 years. That was my mom to a “T”. The only time it moved was when I used it to sit on when I talked on the phone as a teenager. I would move it four feet across the little hall to just inside the doorway of the kitchen, under the rotary phone that hung on the wall long after everyone else had touch-tone phones. I would sit on that milk can for hours talking to my friends and boys I knew.

Once, when Andy was in the Navy in Spain – when we were engaged and anxiously awaiting our wedding day when we would be together forever – he called me and as I was sitting on the milk can, the call got cut off. I knew he would call right back so I waited on the milk can. It took longer than I expected, probably because of the crazy phone lines on the Navy base in Rota, so I laid my head down on the kitchen counter. Being a college-kid who also worked late at night at the local Pizza Hut, I was often very tired and so as I was waiting with my head down, I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept – maybe 20 minutes but when I woke up, my feet were just as asleep as I was. Stupidly, I tried to walk on them to get to my bed – NEVER try to walk if your feet are asleep! Two or three steps later, my right foot buckled under and I went down in excruciating pain. It was fractured – the only bone fracture I’ve ever had. It was years before I could wear heels again for any length of time. But, I still love that milk can. How can I get rid of something that holds such memories for me? I gladly paid to ship the 35lb rusty metal monstrosity home.

Earlier, when I was talking to my grandma about the old house, she told me that my cousin Gwen said she wanted the doorknobs from the old house. These are great old antique doorknobs and when I heard the idea, I loved it and wanted one, too! So, I silently apologized to Gwen for not letting her have all of them and decided to see what I could do to get the doorknobs out of the house – maybe to share among all the grandkids. So, after I was done packing mom’s stuff, I found the little red toolbox Grandma kept in the utility room and hadn’t brought to the new house yet and worked to learn if I could remove the old knob from the living room door and replace it with a new one. After all, I didn’t want to leave the house doorknob-less. Alas, I found that removing the knob and plate was easy but because this was an antique knob with one of those big skeleton keyholes beneath it, there was a lot of hardware embedded in the wood of the door that I could not remove – at least without destroying the wood. So we are leaving it to my Uncle Larry who is much more handy with these things and visits often. He may be able to come up with a solution to our problem. But, I’m already imagining that little shelf my mom made with the doorknob on top as one of the small mementos it will house. I really hope Uncle Larry can figure it out and I’d love to be able to send a Facebook message to all my cousins announcing that we can have doorknobs if we want to remember that great old house with.

The other item I received that weekend that is of great importance to me is an item that belonged to my Uncle Carl. He passed away last year and I expressed to Grandma that I would love to have a small something from his house to remember him by. Thursday, when I arrived at her home, Grandma gave me a space clock – a desk clock that says “Nasa – Sharing Space Technology – Kennedy Space Center” below the analog face that she found in his house. Uncle Carl was a physicist and worked for Nasa on the space shuttle for most of his life. I tell more about him in another post from last year. I love Carl as I love all my uncles and to have this small piece from his life means a lot to me. I think I’ll put it on the little shelf next to the doorknob.

But, I have been asking myself, why do we crave these things in our lives? Why do we collect these items that take up space in our homes and won’t mean anything to anyone 2 generations from now? Vienna’s grandkids won’t care if I sat on this milk can and broke my foot waiting for their great-grandfather to call from the Navy. They won’t have any memories of the house that belonged to my grandma and that I loved so dearly. And the clock will just be a clock to them – if it even still works – if Vienna even keeps it herself after I die. All these things will eventually go the way of the earth, just as we do.

I believe in the afterlife – that our spirits live on forever after we die and that we will be reunited with our loved ones who have passed on before us. I also believe that we will each have a perfect memory of all that happened to us while we were on the earth – unlike the fading and fallible memory we have now. I wonder if clinging to these things – these physical reminders – is kindof like clinging to or reaching beyond the veil that lies between this earthly life and the eternities - for the time to come when we will be with our family and friends again with a perfect beautiful memory of our lives on earth and won’t need these things anymore.

I am wondering if these things are simply for us to hold as a semblance of that joy we will have with our loved ones. Has God given us a desire for these things so that we might feel a sliver of what we will feel then and maybe have an inkling of what He has planned for us?

Well, no matter the answer to that, I love these small tokens of love, memories and life. I can’t wait to scrub, sand and paint my milkcan or hang my mom’s little shelves and on them place a doorknob, clock and other sweet mementos. I plan to cling to them until I don’t need them anymore.