One special piece of furniture in my house belonged to my Nanny, and every single time I see it, it sparks a fond memory. She called it a ‘sideboard’ and kept it in the dining room where a sideboard is supposed to be. It was where she kept the fancy engraved silverware that became tarnished with non-use (unlike mine that can be in the garage for 2 years and look brand new after a 30-minute dishwasher ride), as well as tablecloths pressed neatly and cloth napkins to match.
I can’t remember a time that I’ve fed my crew on a fancy tablecloth, or used fine silver. Ok, so I’ve lit candles, but that’s not something I do on special occasions — I do that often. Of course, now Nanny’s sideboard isn’t really a sideboard anymore, but a piece of furniture that I reference by pointing because I don’t know what to call it. Still, it reminds me of her, and sometimes I think I can still smell the starch she used to press the tablecloth so carefully before putting it away until the next special occasion.
So when I have grandchildren (the first of which is on the way), and I’m dead and gone, I wonder what one thing will be left around that sparks a memory. If it’s Nanny’s sideboard …the tablecloths and fancy silverware memories will be replaced with photo albums and candles and odds and ends that really don’t have a spot of their own — because that’s what is in there now.
Isn’t it funny how time changes everything — everything except our memories of how it used to be? What is your one item that sparks a happy memory every single time you look at it?