The One About the Framed Spoons

Ok, you guys, I've been absent a bit from my posting, but it was for a very good reason... the BEST of reasons. Our youngest daughter had her second baby, our sweet, little "Boo," and I got to go hang out with them for a while. Who could blame me?!

Anyway, I'm back now and thought I'd share another of my very random thoughts about nothing -in- particular that somehow always turns into something very particular in my brain.

Last weekend was a rainy one here in San Antonio. What a blessing it was, indeed! We got around two-and-a-half inches here at the Casita which absolutely thrilled me to no end, one, because we NEEDED it, and two, a rainy weekend is always a good excuse to blow off the to-do list and hit the book stores and thrift shops... and that's just what Tom and I did!

We started out at Barnes & Noble and then wandered over to Half Price Books to just mill around. We didn't find anything, really, just enjoyed browsing the WWII and airplane aisle (Tom) and the decorating, gardening aisle (guess who?).

There's a Goodwill store not far from there, so we wandered over there too. We get a LOT of exercise with all that wandering, you know, so it's really pretty much like working out in my book. Haha... my book, get it?! Anyway... I digress.

As we were wand.... well, you know, up and down the aisles of Goodwill, I thought I'd take a gander at the frames. We have six grandchildren now... SIX... such a blessing... and I'm always looking for frames to use for their latest pictures. That's when I spotted it. The sweet, white frame with four delicate, little teaspoons mounted in the center.

It was like I was drawn to it. I could have made it, it was SO like me and my style. The frame was ornate, but not too over the top. The backing had been covered in a cream- colored fabric with parallel rows of slender pink and green stripes, and on each stripe was mounted one of the spoons that had been chalk painted white and secured with a dollop of hot glue.

I admired it for a second then turned it over to see the price. That's when I knew for sure this frame and its contents was coming home with me, for there on the back was a note taped to the center, and this is what it read:

"This silverware belonged to Lena and Adolph Herbort, Mama Pierce's parents. Thought you might enjoy this little piece of your history.

Mom and Dad Christmas 2013"

OF COURSE it was coming home with me! I even pointed the note out to the cashier at check-out when she admired the frame. It was too sweet to leave behind for someone who might not appreciate fully the sentimentality of it. For some reason it struck me. Maybe it was because it was so lovingly and thoughtfully crafted. Maybe because it was meant to be loved and cherished (which it likely was at some point). I have no way of knowing what transpired between December of 2013 and last weekend or why someone at some point realized they no longer needed or wanted to keep it.

Truly, I think it may have been because of the conversation Sarah and I had when I was there helping after the baby arrived.

One day over lunch we got talking about wills and furniture and all the things peple leave behind when they pass away, some of it intentionally left to loved ones and some, well, just left. I mentioned how no matter which things of value or antiquity are designated, it almost always is the small, seemingly insignificant things people gravitate to most when their grief is so fresh and raw.

I joked about how my oldest grandson would likely want only one thing: the chicken mug he always asks to drink from when he comes to the house! For myself, I remember keeping my mother's housecoat, slippers, and glasses on a shelf in my closet for years until I was finally able to let them go. It might seem silly to some, and I am aware of the irrationality of it, but in those first days, weeks, and months of our grief, it can seem somehow disrespectful to rid ourselves of everything that reminds us of them.

They're not in the THINGS, of course, but when you can't hug or hold a loved one any longer this side of heaven, it can be very comforting to hold onto something tangible that reminds us that connection wasn't severed at their passing, but remains within us, in our hearts, in our thoughts, in our character... and for believers in Jesus, a reminder that we WILL see one another again one day.

So I guess all this is to say that the little framed spoons made me think of a time when I too will move heavenward, graduated to bigger and oh, so much better things. Will any of my loved ones, especially my children and grandchildren, want any of the silly, little things that make up the heart of the Casita?

Oh, I suppose they'll look around with fresh eyes and see the work of my hands, the crafts I enjoyed, the home I made one tiny "treasure" at a time, and perhaps it will bring a smile to their faces. If they feel a need to take something tangible to hold onto no matter how insignificant or small it may seem to others, I hope they will and that they keep it for as long as they need it, but once they feel their heart lighten and their sadness turn to expectant joy at that glorious reunion one day, then let it go.

Let it go and don't give it a second thought, for of all the "things" I could ever leave you, my dearest, you already have the most precious ones, the ones that will stay with you the rest of your lives:

First and foremost, and the only one of eternal consequence, a faith in and a relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I count this (introducing you to Jesus) the greatest responsibility and the most amazing privilege a parent can ever have, and the utmost of legacies to leave one's family. After that I leave you with compassionate hearts, inquisitive minds, creative talents, a moral compass, and, one of my favorites, a stellar sense of humor ;)

One day someone in the family might end up with the little framed spoons... just because, and that's ok, as long as it reminds them of the greatest lesson of all.

It's only stuff. People don't live on through the stuff. As believers, they live on eternally with Jesus, and as someone you dearly loved who loved you as much in return, they will also always live on...

inside each of you.