On Christmas, we went to see my dad for Christmas. My grandma’s old footstool was sitting in the family room. For a moment, I stared at it. It looked familiar but I couldn’t seem to place it. Then, I realized where I had seen it. It evoked memories of my grandma’s apartment when I was little.
I can still see her little feet, her ankles crossed, propped on the stool as she sat in her favorite, swiveling chair. When she wasn’t sitting in her chair, I used the stool as a seat. I would sit on it as I watched TV. She would be in the kitchen making lunch: her famous fried chicken or cubed steak.
When she began to slip and was moved to a nursing home, there were only two things I wanted of hers–her cat cookie jar and her set of Uncle Wiggly books. I didn’t want her ruby red glassware which was probably quite valuable or anything else she had (despite her wish that I have all her shoes!). I didn’t think of the little footstool that ended up in my dad’s family room. The cookie jar and the books are the two objects that evoke my strongest memories of her.
Whenever I went to her house, she would have fresh cookies in the smiling cat cookie jar. We spent hours reading the Uncle Wiggly books. She did the funniest voices for the characters. Each book ended with a suggestion for what book to read next. I never got tired of hearing those stories.
For some people, a scent or a sound or a flavor can evoke strong memories, but I tend to focus on objects. The cookie jar and the Uncle Wiggly books symbolize the special moments I shared with my grandmother.
Beginning Again 