Feeling Sentimental

Feeling Sentimental

Here’s something you might not of known about me, I am sentimental about certain things. Especially if I have something of a relative of his passed on. Everyday I’ve worn the same ring on my hand for the last 15 years. It belong to grandmother. It isn’t a fancy ring but I remember it being on her finger everyday. I don’t take this ring off. It is a constant reminder of my grandma and it means the world to me. I guess this is my way to keep her close.

It doesn’t have to be jewelry. I have a dining room table that has been with me for three different houses. It was my other grandmothers glass table that she had in her apartment before she passed away. I was only 16. At some point my father gave it to me when I lived in my house. I took it to my apartment when I got divorced and now it’s in this condo. I myself have had this table for probably 20 years and the table itself is over 30 years old. I honestly can’t see me parting with it anytime soon. On my shelves are Knick knacks from her home that I have had for many years.

These little objects that use to line my grandma’s shelves now line mine. They all hold a piece of my grandma for me. They are all cherished.

Then I’m sentimental about things my mom has done and given me. Thankfully my mom is around and doing fine, but I have a collection of projects she’s done over the years that I’m extremely sentimental about as well. On my shelves you can see some of her paintings. There are two glassworks and one box that was done by my mom. She also has done two paintings that I have in my condo, both of which are extremely good.  However, the most amazing was a needlepoint she did back when I was a little girl.

I remember this needlepoint being framed in a forest green to match the color of the living room in an apartment we lived in. Since we moved from that apartment when I was in third grade, she had to of done this when I was very very young. I remember her doing the needlepoint. I remember the furry yarn she used. I remember touching it and feeling it. I remember she had a bag she used to walk around with and there was all the yarn in it and she would take it out constantly. I guess at some point she gave it to my grandma because I remember seeing it for years and years in her home in Florida. After my grandmother passed away, her apartment was cleaned out and I never questioned about my mothers needlepoint until fairy recently.

It was probably when I moved into the condo that I said it is too bad that we didn’t have that needlepoint anymore. That work never could have been replicated and it’s something my mother would never be doing again, even in a different pattern. Just like she would never be painting again which is why the pieces I have are so valuable to me. Fast forward to this year’s epidemic of Covid. My mother cleaned every corner of her house. She was going through some boxes in the basement and in one of the boxes she found rolled up, her needlepoint. She took it out of the frame and brought it home from my grandmothers. 15 years after my grandmother passed away it was found, she didn’t even know she had it. 

For Mother’s Day, she and my stepdad had it framed for me and yesterday I hung it up.

A close up so you can hopefully see the work. The furry yarn was used on the scarf.

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