Monday, August 26, 2019
My husband and I lost a long time, very dear friend several years ago. He and his wife had no children and we had, through the years, come to one another's aid innumerable times. In her later years, his mother lived with him after his wife's death. Mrs. C. was badly crippled with arthritis, but she had merry blue eyes and a wonderful sense of the ridiculous. The two of them put their feet under our dinner table on many memorable occasions.
When our friend was living his last weeks, he asked me to go down to his house - just a couple of blocks from us, to wash and pack up his mother's everyday dishes that he had grown up using and displayed in a cupboard. No one in his family wanted them and he begged me to take them. I did so and they remained in boxes until about a month ago. I ran across them and took a cup out to look at it. Such old timey dishes - sweet, with poppies and forget-me-nots. These dishes date back to the late 1920's, so the plates and bowls are reasonable sizes - much smaller than our current dinnerware. So, I unwrapped them, washed them and am using them. This morning my toast, egg and fruit fill this small plate and it looks so pretty! And, I cherish the memories that bubble up when I look at them - a couple of the dear saints of my life, always there to be recalled.