I love old stuff

I love old stuff. I really do. I cherish the little, dirty, forgotten trinkets that others might throw away or forget about. I take family treasures that others cast off and make them a spotlighted showcase in my home. I rummage through other people's family momentos, even, and give them a new lease on life by sparkling up their shine and touching up their paint....or even by displaying them in their old, worn-out glory just as they are.

Ken has had to accept this about me. He is not a throw-away Nazi by any means (in fact, we can both be packrats), but he doesn't always see the value (as with most men) in keeping things around "just because they mean something to us."

I have ammassed so many old things which now decorate my home. I don't own any priceless antique vases or collectible silver....but I do have old photos hanging in our hallway of my family over the past six decades. I have an old chair that I bought from the basement of an antique store for five dollars that now serves as my vanity "stool." It is not pretty, or feminine in the least, but it is still usable, and I love to imagine its past as I stare into the mirror each morning and dry my hair.

I have a framed portrait of my great uncle Charles on the top of our chifferobe; Dad gave it to me when he saw how much I eyed it and asked questions about it when it was on my parents' dresser. Charles was killed in France in World War II, and I wanted to hear every memory Dad had of him so I could imagine that I knew him myself, too.

I scour garage sales (and, oh yes, I have even been spotted prowling around Ebay) for vintage LPs, namely Christmas albums. The sweet sounds of Bing Crosby or Julie Andrews which fill our halls during the holidays are that much sweeter due to the little "blips" and "pops" that can only be coming from vinyl. Even holidays are that much more special with the music of yesteryear involved.

I love old movies (don't get me started), old fashion styles, old hairstyles, old recipes, old cars, old books, old jewelry, old houses. I love to imagine who wore it, who sat on it, who listened to it, who ate it, who read it, who lived in it. There are treasures abounding behind the walls of even the house in which we live....secret stories, secret lives.

I value senior citizens....the Greatest Generation....the stories they tell, the sentiments they possess, the frugality we can all learn from. I love their simple ways, their pleasure in little things of life. There are fewer happy days I can remember than those which I spent with my grandparents. Being with them was always a mini-retreat, and it grew more special as I got older and grew into a woman. I count those two people priceless.

I am so thankful for tokens from yesterday. They make my life sweeter, richer, fuller, more adventurous. They inspire me to leave a legacy today that my children and grandchildren can discover later. It's cool to think that DVDs and iPods may be rare and unusual one day. Nothing is permanent...everything is ever-changing. All, that is, except our God.