I grew up in a two story house with seven bedrooms and 3 brothers and 3 sisters with a big backyard and a garden that seemed to fill most of it. There are a lot of memories from those growing up years.
We recently closed my Mom and Dad’s estate having lost Mom five years ago and Dad a year ago. But, that’s not the reason for this blog.
This blog is dedicated to the blue vase and the yellow bowl. It’s interesting that neither of these held any value to me until recently. They were my Mom’s things. I had often told my Mom and Dad when I would visit, and the inevitable question came about, that I didn’t want anything. I only wanted them. Well, as we all know in life, that just doesn’t happen. People can’t stay forever.
In the months of closing the estate we were asked about the things we wanted. My answer was always nothing. All I wanted was them. Until one day while I was working all I could think about was the yellow bowl. I took it as a sign that I needed to ask for the yellow bowl. As it turned out, no one else was wanting it so my sister shipped it to me.
Before this story gets too long I need to explain about these two items….the yellow bowl and the blue vase. You see, these were two of my Mother’s favorite things. They seemed to arrive at our New Orleans home about the same time. I hadn’t thought about that blue vase in years until another sister brought a box of things from California for me and in it was the blue vase.
So, now, I had the blue vase AND the yellow bowl. And the memories returned. Here is the story. The blue vase was very important to my Mom. It sat on an end table in the living room in those New Orleans days. And, in San Diego, I am guessing that it’s place of honor was the china cabinet. The thing is…..they are not the same two vases just as the yellow bowl I first received was not the yellow bowl from New Orleans. I later received the original yellow bowl in the same box that had the blue vase.
Years ago, while my parents were away, my oldest brother was left to babysit and many of us had a pillow fight in the living room of all places. You know that blue vase….knocked over and broken🙄. And, this is where the story gets vague. I remember stories of my oldest brother giving my Mom a new beautiful blue vase in San Diego. I am guessing he still remembered it after all those years and wanted to replace it. I’m not sure if this is the real story but it doesn’t matter.
When I took the blue vase from the box, I knew I needed to keep it. On to the yellow bowl. This bowl is a big serving bowl. My Mom would serve all the ingredients for tacos in that bowl-all mixed together. She served it every week because taco night came once a week. She would also serve up the steaming hot corn on the cob fresh from the garden in that yellow bowl. I am sure she served other things as well. Now, each time I use that bowl, I not only think of the family dinners in New Orleans but I think of my Mom just like I do when I see the blue vase and, I also think of my brother and the memories come flooding in. It’s not the things themselves that make me want to hang on to them but the memories that are attached to each of my Mom’s two favorite things.