A pitcher is worth a thousand words

This may not seem like much to anyone else, but to me, it is priceless.

Fortunately for us, some friends moved in down the street.  The other day she borrowed some muffin pans and instead of having her daughter carry them down to the house (they are stoneware), I did it for her.

I happened to notice this vase on her counter and asked where she had gotten it.  She mentioned that she picked it up a yard sale.  I mentioned to her that I liked it because it happened to be the same pattern of dishes that my Grandmother Clara had in her home while I was growing up.  

A few days later she brought back the pans and this vase filled with a few flowers and a thank you card.  I told her that was unnecessary, but she insisted saying that it "was only purchased at yard sale, it doesn't mean anything to me, but I think it does to you."

It was hard to not come to tears friends.  She is right, it means a thousand things to me.

Most of all, it reminds me of my Grandmother who passed away years ago.  It reminds me of the love that we felt in their home.  It reminds me of the pictures she had in hallway, many of which highlighted her in a satin softball uniform and her beautiful black hair.  She was stunning.  It reminds me of the flowers and tomato plants she planted every year...she took such pride in her yard.  It reminds me of the smell of their home, which happened to be from Swisher Sweets Cigars...and you know what, to this day I KNOW the smell of that cigar and it brings back memories of my Grandfather as well.  It reminds me of the joy I had when I got to spend the night because I knew I was going to get a banana split and get to stay up late to watch Johnny Carson and the George Burns/Gracie Allen show.  It reminds me of walking in their home and knowing that my Grandfather was going to offer me a handful of his favorite sweet treats, which were black jelly beans and boston baked bean candies, that were ALWAYS next to his rocking chair.  It reminds me of the many trips up the Ten Sleep Canyon to go fishing or camping.  My Grandfather was an excellent fishermen.  It reminds me of the many pictures of him with his bounty laid out in the front yard before Grandmother cooked it up.  It reminds me of Grandmother starting to lock her screen doors...in the middle of day.  It reminds me of my Grandfather asking me to play "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" on the piano...and him singing and whistling a long.  It reminds me of the cords and cords and cords of wood my Grandfather always got, my Grandmother loved a warm home.  It reminds me of the storage of toilet paper she had...I think she thought the world was going to run out.  It reminds me of her paintings.  My Grandmother and Mother have wonderful artistic talent.  It reminds of Dean...that mean old cat they had when I was young.  

It reminds me.

I miss my Grandmother and Grandfather to this day.  I was so fortunate to grow up three blocks from their home.  Their home was a place of comfort and peace.  They loved you...and you KNEW it.  

So yes, this vase to me is priceless.  It reminds me.