WHAT TO DO WITH MEMORIES
I was happy to have pieces of history to remind me of my aunt and my family.
The other day I was at my aunt’s home. It’s a typical 1950’s triple fronted cream brick house that you’ll find in many Melbourne suburbs (although sadly they are being replaced). It’s been lovingly maintained with a manicured lawn, hydrangea bushes and a neat low brick wall, reminiscent of an iconic Howard Arkley painting.
As I was sitting in the ‘good room’ with my mum and my two cousins, I was remembering past gatherings we’d had there. Christmas lunches complete with silly paper hats, family afternoon teas served in pretty fine china cups and matching saucers. And memories as a kid of being scared of venturing out into the backyard because of the two large dogs!
But while these glimpses of the past were present, my aunt who had orchestrated these events, was not. Our meeting of laughs and tears was met with sorting out the items that had belonged to her.
My cousins had carefully gone through the items that were precious (not necessarily in the monetary sense). China teacups with saucers in delicate and faded patterns, old engraved silver tea sets, a bright pink jug with a chipped handle and an assortment of mismatched plates, were some of the items carefully set out on the dining table. Beautiful intricate glasses and dessert bowls, of a different time, glistened, almost waiting for the next occasion to be used.
We were kindly asked to choose what we would like to have as a memory of my aunt and, in turn of the family. My family had stretched beyond my grandparents to those who had arrived in Australia with an Irish accent. My mother remembered the precious silverware from her childhood. I remembered the china tea cups from our family afternoon teas. And then there were items I hadn’t recalled. Such as a brass bowl with a pattern that seemed to match a small plate my mum has (that we’d always been curious about).
My mum and I left with treasures. I was happy to have pieces of history to remind me of my aunt and my family - where my family came from and what they’ve experienced. In a way these pieces have come to life.
A new life where these treasures can be admired in a different setting.
My new pieces of china are being used every day for my cups of tea. And the bright pink jug (of Victorian period, I later discovered), sits proudly on my bookcase in my new apartment next to some other pink objects. There, to create new memories.
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