Where Bloggers Live: I Can’t Let Go of ____
Welcome to the monthly edition of Where Bloggers Live. It’s kind of like HGTV’s “Celebrities at Home,” but…Bloggers! Who doesn’t like to peek behind the scenes and see inside people’s homes? Every month a group of six bloggers share their workspaces, homes, towns, and more!
This month’s theme is “I Can’t Let Go of ____.” You know, those things that are past their prime or beyond their usefulness that you just can’t let go of for sentimental reasons. I’m sure we all have them.
I feel like I could pick almost any item in my apartment and it would fall under the heading of “really past its prime but being held onto for sentimental reasons.”
So I’m going to pick one item that was from my mother, one from my father.
The Older Than Dirt Shirt
I’ve shared this before. A shirt my mother bought me from Macy’s prior to 1985 that I have worn frequently and continuously for the past 35+ years. It has magically adjusted to all my weights from the low 100s where I was in the early 80s, to the 300+ that I was a few years ago.
It has certainly seen better days. It has holes in it, paint splatters, one shoulder pad (proof of its 80s origin) is hanging on by a thread. But I still love it. The loose, drapey fit…the Henley neckline, the color…at this point, the fact that my mother bought it for me – all these factors have made it a long-time favorite. And I will probably have it til the end.
The White Bookcase
My father built this bookcase for my sister when she was around 10 years old (she’s in her 70s now). It’s just a square box, nothing fancy. But I’ve had it with me for as long as I can remember. I haven’t even repainted it in a REALLY long time, so it’s chippy…not in a pretty shabby chic Rachel Ashwell Paris apartment way, just in a “nobody really cares about me but I’ll just keep doing my best” kind of way.
I kind of like its white boxiness. It’s like the invisible black dress. You can put it anywhere, put anything on it, and it does the job without attracting attention to itself. And I have so few things of my father’s…and certainly nothing he built.
When we first moved to Long Island in the early 70s (well, 1969), he made this THING to go in the kitchen. It was part countertop dining, part storage, part display…I wish I had a picture of it. Like the white bookcase, it was very straightforward, its job was to serve, not to look pretty, and it did its job well. On it, he handpainted a little sign that either he or my mother framed, and it always leaned up on one of the shelves.” It said “The Thing Designed & Built by Rain.” His name was Charles but no one called him that. Everyone called him Rain.
I’m sure I’ve told the (“Bettye is a Dummy”) story before where I was walking down the hall in jr high school and a teacher I didn’t know asked me if my father was Charles Rainwater and I said no because…NO ONE ever called him that. It was only later that I was like, oh. Yeah. Duh.
So, the white bookcase will probably stay with me forever. It’s extremely sturdy. It’s 70ish years old, which is not THAT old for furniture, but he was not a furniture maker….and this has withstood MANY moves.
PS: I also still have the “The Thing Designed & Built by Rain” sign somewhere, too. That will probably always stay as well. I’ll have to tell Katie the story so she understands what it is someday when she’s going through my things.
I feel like I could write a book explaining what all my things are and their “historical” significance to me/my family, so that after I’m gone, Katie can at least know what things are before she just sends them to the dump (or wherever). That’s one of those “to do” things I will probably never do.
These are not exciting or beautiful or unique items. But they’ve traveled with me for a long time and feel like part of my story.
Be sure to visit my friends’ blogs today, as well…
Daenel at Living Outside the Stacks
Iris at Iris’ Original Ramblings
Jodie at Jodie’s Touch of Style
Leslie at Once Upon a Time Happily Ever After
Em at Dust and Doghair
Leslie Susan Clingan
This was such a dear, thoughtful post in response to one of my favorite prompts yet. Your bookcase is a keepsake for sure. I think it looks very chic with its chippy paint. People pay good money to have new pieces made to look old. You have something that was handmade by your father, that has withstood moves, and the test of time and looks very Better Homes and Garden-ish.
I also love the comfort level and color of the top your mom bought for you. Like a wearable hug.
Hope you have a fabulous time at the wedding.
jodie filogomo
It’s amazing how the feelings from something overweigh any other thoughts! But the bookcase is such quality!!
Xoxo
Jodie
http://www.jtouchofstyle.com
Daenel T.
The bookcase. That is the sweetest thing. I love that you still have it and use it. And that it’s usable. This was – hands down – my favorite prompt.
Iris
Finally, after someone else posted a comment it lets me too.
I’m with Daenel, I love the bookcase. Not only is it handy and useful – it has sweet memories.
Grace & Peace, Iris
http://www.IrisOriginalsRamblings.com
Em D
Bettye, I just love reading your posts! In addition to enjoying them as a whole, there’s always some unexpected compositional treasure that grabs me. Sometimes it’s something about the subject, sometimes it’s your photography…today it was this phrase: “its job was to serve, not to look pretty, and it did its job well.” So poetically descriptive.
Love that you picked one object from your mom and one from your dad. So much appreciation for you wearing the shirt like a hug from your mom. I don’t know if she was a hugger, obv, but that’s what I think wearing it would feel like.
I know from your other posts that you are surrounded by meaningful treasures–like your Japanese bowls or the fun Katie card–so I was really excited to see what you would choose. It’s special that your treasures are where you can visit and appreciate them often. I have packed too many of mine in bins, or drawers and don’t visit or appreciate them enough. Your prompt gave me an opportunity to do that, while discovering which direction to take.
THANK YOU!!!
bettyewp
Ohh, thanks for appreciating my wording 🙂
I don’t really recall my mother being a hugger…or maybe that was me…no, she was more of a kook. A depressed, resentful kook. I say that in the fondest way. It’s too bad that at the time I could only resent her resentfulness. Now I feel I can understand and appreciate it and her a little better.
Oh, I have PLENTY of treasures hidden away in boxes. Plenty. Of. Treasures. Too many. And you know what we call “too many treasures.” JUNK. ha ha ha.
I wish I could figure out why your comments go to trash. I feel like I’ve approved them enough times that they should know where to go. Dumb Internet.
bettyewp
Oh, Em. Will you be my Ghost Comment Responder? Your comments are always so lovely and make me feel good and my talents appreciated!
Last week I had a TikTok go viral (for me) so I had hundreds of comments to respond to and I just run out of creative, gracious ways to say thank you. So I start just responding with the heart face emoji which is lame, but.
I just realized I’ve already responded to THIS comment, but…I had more to say, so…
xoxo
Liz Klebba
You had me dying of laughter when you got to “one shoulderpad”… And rolling with the offhand comment about not recognizing your dad’s name. My dad was Francis, but only work associates called him Frank. To family he was always Pel. At my aunt’s wedding, someone told her that he had just met her brother Frank… And she swore up and down she had no such thing! She never knew his “real” name. What a treat of a post, but I must admit, I was expecting a little hanky somewhere in here!
bettyewp
Ah, so I’m not alone in not recognizing your own parent’s name!
Ha, no, no hankies here. They don’t really fall under this category to me. They’re still useful, I just don’t need 1,268 of them! I keep trying to send them to my great niece for paying dress up but…there’s probably only just so many SHE needs, either!