Nesting

One summer day in the mid-80's, I discovered an oriole nest crafted mostly from our horse’s bronze mane and tail, and another one showcasing a scrap of stray gray yarn from one of my knitting projects.  Those industrious birds used what they had at hand. When it comes to interior decorating, I identify. I like filling my home with things that have belonged to members of the family - "nesting" with available materials rather than buying new.

As of yesterday, things stored for the last four years are back in our possession.  The old grandfather clock that belonged to one great-grandfather, and the antique gun collection that belonged to another great-grandfather, have been welcomed home.  I never knew these men, and yet we’re connected by virtue of tangible things that mattered to them. 

The not-so-comfortable overstuffed chair with beautifully carved, ornate wooden trim, now sits in a prominent place in my living room.  My mother-in-law’s spinning wheel highlights the end of our TV room.

All around the house various family members are represented by their possessions: a hutch and dining room chairs owned by my husband’s grandmother, a parlor grand piano given to my father-in-law on his seventeenth birthday, a remodeled sideboard given to my mother by another family member at the time of her marriage.  That sideboard is full of old dishes, some belonging to my great-aunt.

There’s a certain comfort in being surrounded by historical pieces that belong here because of familial connection. I wonder what it’s like to not have this kind of tangible heritage, to wing it solo without hand-me-downs?  And I wonder what belongings of mine might eventually be valued as a legacy by some future great-grandchild?