Family Treasures: Smiles From the Past

I have been trying for the past six weeks to get to visit my older sister Marilyn, who is in assisted living in Millmont. Plans somehow never managed to work out until this day. We decided to visit Marilyn first and then go to Mom & Dad's house to look at and help sort some things. The weather was decent. The stars aligned. Off we went!

Now, I was not bearing chocolate chip cookies or peanut butter fudge, alas. I often try to take baked goods along when visiting family, but I had not had time for that. As we anticipated bringing stuff back from Mom & Dad's, my husband cleared everything else out of the car so we could fit more things in.

We were on the road by a little after 11. An hour later, we pulled into the Hairy John picnic area, where we stopped for 20 minutes of fresh air and pretty outdoor time. I do love it there, and in fact, a photo of me AT Hairy John rests atop my current Facebook profile!

From there, we went to the assisted living place where Marilyn now resides. I had bought a Christmas present for her, and wrapped it, because I suspected we would not see her again before the holidays. She said she wanted to wait to open it, so we tucked it into a credenza in her room; informed the nurse that it was there.

Marilyn has Parkinson's. For a while she had a few choking episodes. More recently, she had some problems with falling. They have moved her to a ward where an alarm sounds when she gets out of her bed; she has to push a button to get a nurse before doing so.

My husband and I spent some time with her, talking with her and sharing family stories. She said she wished more family would come to visit. She wants to hold my brother's grand-babies. She would like to receive Christmas cards. There are friends she'd like to see.

She has some spotty memory issues with recent events, but had no trouble at all remembering far past events. With a big, dreamy smile, she informed me, "You were the most BEAUTIFUL BABY!" And I told her, with love and honesty, that she was always a good big sister to me. Okay, so that part was a love-fest, as always. Big hugs, some I Love You's, and we were on our way.

My husband dropped me off at my parents' house and went for food, which is to say Sal's in McAlisterville. He got a hoagie, ate part of it there, and brought the other half for me to eat on the front porch. He also picked up a chef salad for later, but since everything had been taken out of the car, there was no cooler to put it in!

My little sister and I spent the time going through stuff. I looked at clothing, and jewelry, and coats, and snow globes, and family quilts, and Noah's Ark stuff, and Pyrex, and Campbell's Kids memorabilia, and health and beauty aids. All of the little treasures my mother accumulated. "Here, take this container of jewelry along and sort it later," my little sister said, as she handed me a clear plastic box of little stuff.

We sat on the kitchen floor and sorted Rubbermaid containers; found lids. "Do you remember Grandma Colyer, and the story of how she used to hide under the kitchen table when it thunder-stormed?" I asked. Yes, she remembered. "Well, I have BECOME Grandma Colyer," I said, as I sat underneath the kitchen table, sorting containers, matching lids.

We had planned to spend 90 minutes there, and that time was just PACKED with STUFF. Just before 4 p.m., we started loading it all into the car. Rubbermaid containers. Plastic boxes. Pyrex. Quilts. My childhood art. (!!!) Jewelry. Flannel sheets. Men's clothes, size XL, for my husband to try on.

My little sister surveyed us from the yard. "Come on, you can fit MORE STUFF THAN THAT IN THERE," she advised. And I was reminded of that lady from the commercial who tells you - will it fit? Oh, and here she came with one more thing: a nice Coleman cooler, which we instantly put the to-go chef salad in! "Good job, Doll Baby!" I said, with enthusiasm. I hugged her; we exchanged I Love You's.

By shortly after 4, my husband and I were back on the road. We wanted to travel in daylight, and it usually is a trip that takes anywhere from an hour and fifteen to more than that. But the traffic was just flying, and we flew with them, with brand new front tires on my car. It was crazy. We were home in ONE HOUR FLAT!!! "No restrictions!"* we both hollered in my dad's honor, as we pumped our fists in the air. A bright pink sunset guided our way.

We got home and ate some of the chef salad; saved the other half for tomorrow. My husband settled into football. I started sorting through the containers of stuff that I'd brought home. Later, we'd tune in to the new Indiana Jones movie premiering on Disney.

I dumped the clear box of jewelry boxes out onto the bed, began sorting through them, took photos to send to my sister: was there anything she wanted? I came across jewelry I bought my mother, and I smiled to see it: a chain with a silver square filigree locket, Mother on the outside, I Love You on the inside, with a heart and a sparkly thing inside. I don't think my mother ever had to wonder whether I loved her! Oh no!

They say that you will get back later in life everything you threw out into it, and I am here to tell you that that is true. I have gotten back so many of the things I've given the ones I've loved: books and blankets and gifts I made or gave them. It's piling up at MY house now, all these tokens of love. Oh yes, it's raining LOVE here. And STUFF. Lots and lots of STUFF.

And when we got home, and I took everything out of the car, and piled it at the top of the front stairs, and then in the hallway, my husband despaired: "We just got RID of this stuff!" he moaned; "and now it's BACK!!!"

I continued sorting jewelry. There were Avon boxes with "Mom" written on them in Barb's handwriting. An "I Love You To The Moon and Back" necklace, just like we all have, but this one was for Mom. It is still in the box, never taken out, never worn. So many things we gave her, she never used at all, not even ONCE. I try to think it through and it gives me pause.

Sorting among the little-old-lady beads, I picked up a small, square, old-fashioned piece with a latch, and a dreamy Renaissance painting on the front. I opened it up. It was for storing photos, like a locket. Inside were pictures of my grandparents, Grammy (Carrie Violet) and Pappy (John Henry) Carvell, smiling out at me!

I sent some photos to my little sister, commented on the couple of nicer and more meaningful pieces. "Finding the picture frame is why I have had to be so careful going through everything," she replied; "You just never know what mom will have dropped in with something!" So here is a tiny treasure I found on this day, which features smiles from the past!

Let's let our soundtrack song be this one: Bad English, with When I See You Smile.

More stories that feature Marilyn:
In Which We Carry Denny Home
Sisters Forever! All for One and One for All!

And here's a family photo, so you can keep track of all of the players! LOL!

And here's a story that features Grammy Carvell, and Mom, and the wedding silverware. (And somehow THAT has become mine, now, too.)

Note: from Grammy Carvell, I received my love of air conditioning, my keen fashion sense, my enjoyment of birch beer, and my adoration for peep-toe shoes! She was the ONLY one who would ever play my favorite childhood game with me . . . "What Shall I Wear?" :-) And from my Pappy Carvell? Well, he was a PHOTOGRAPHER. Enough said!

*"No restrictions!" story 1.
*"No restrictions," story 2.