My mother died near the end of 2014, and I continue to go through boxes of her possessions. I only complete a few boxes each month because the task is too daunting as I choose what to use, store, donate, or throw into the garbage. Throughout the process, I can feel her presence imploring me to keep it all; but I can’t.
A recent box yielded spiritual heirlooms from my grandmothers: a plastic cross stitched with yellow yarn, a needlepoint church, a tattered Holy Bible. Inside the box was a small, gold, cardboard box full of handmade handkerchiefs. Even though they were sturdy, practical farm women, my mother and grandmothers always carried delicate handkerchiefs when they left their homes. My maternal grandmother saved scraps of linen and fine cotton and fashioned the pieces into elegant works of art. She used a vibrant collection of thread as she embroidered delicate images of flowers and hemmed and tatted the edges. My mother saved dozens of them, and most were never used. I’ll give some to my daughter, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters, but they probably will save them but won’t use them, either.
Handmade hankies are relics from a distant past when women wore their Sunday dresses, gloves, and hats to church. They carried simple purses, a lace handkerchief, and a Bible. After church, they donned aprons and cooked dinner for the family. Life for my mother and grandmothers wasn’t easy, but through all the hard work for their families and dutiful allegiance to their husbands, they kept a fragment of elegance tucked into their purses.
Mom also owned more than a dozen Bibles. She had read each one, underlining favorite verses, scribbling in the margins, noting favorite sermons and preachers, and adding whimsical stickers. In her last years, the Bible in large type was her favorite. The last chapter, The Book of Revelations, is full of underlined verses in both red and black ink. On the last two pages, where the text proclaims that Jesus is coming again, she added two bright-yellow, smiley-face stickers.
What do I do with a dozen Bibles? I own several she has given me through the years. I could donate hers to family, churches, and retirement homes, but no one would know the devout woman who underlined verses, added stickers, and prayed constantly for her fractured family. I don’t want this chore.
While writing this essay, tears began to fall. I grabbed one of Grandma Morrison’s delicate handkerchiefs from the gold box and blotted my eyes. I’m sure I heard my mother and grandmother murmur together, “Use them, Elaine. They’re for you.” Then my mother would add, “Be sure to hand-wash them and only iron on low heat.” I’ll do that, Mom. Bless your heart, and Happy Mother’s Day.
Touching post, Elaine. My mom and grandma had boxes full those delicate lace handkerchiefs. My grandma always tried to teach me tatting (a lost art) but I could never sit still long to sew a stitch.
Thanks, Pat. I enjoy your posts, also. My Grandma Morrison tatted dozens of hankies and pillowcases – no one uses them. But, I’m keeping a few.
Made me tear up too! My Mother also had hankies and I have continued buying them when I see them. Living here in Portland Or and wearing glasses, I carry one in every pocket of every coat and in every purse. I use them constantly. When I went through chemo all my nose hairs fell out along with all my other hair and I had a constant drippy nose for 6 months. So now I give a few pretty hankies to people I know who are going through chemo therapy and will lose their hair.
Thanks, Haralee, for the great idea. I’ll give some of the hankies those who need them. And, I’ll use them, too! They don’t do any good stored in a box.
You paint a beautiful picture of a generation whose ways will never come this way again, and that makes me sad. I miss each and every one of them. Thank you, Brenda
Thanks, Brenda. I’ve kept them in storage but have decided to bring out the handkerchiefs. Today, I’ll give some to my granddaughters and daughter.
I have two of my great-grandmother’s hankies in my dresser…your beautiful essay just breathed new life into them. Thank you.
Just beautiful, I face the same chore of storing, going through, do I toss? how do I keep it all? who used this…where did it come from? This was so heartfelt…love surely glides through the generations.
My mother was a Midwest farm girl too and had hankies like these that she made. I also remember the pillowcases that had embroidered ladies with fancy crocheted dresses on them that she made as a young girl and put in her hope chest. My Dad always had a stack of handkerchiefs that mom IRONED for him. Always ironed. And as a little girl, those handkerchiefs were the first thing I learned to iron. Yellow stickies on the verses talking about Jesus coming again. What hope your mom had. Beautiful post – gives me a lump in my throat just reading it. Thanks! Coming over from Jen Monks’s post on 25 midlife bloggers.