the old.

I love a house filled with old.

I like the trunks that used to be my grandfather’s and the hat that my dad wore as little boy.

My favorite childhood stuffed bear perches on my pillow even now.

I like that.

Because it connects me Now to Then. 

I like the old because it’s an open door to tell my kids about The People Who Have Gone Before.

You can’t walk through a room in our house without looking at or touching some piece of the past.

And Kevin and I are always telling stories to our children about the objects decorating our home.

Because I want the kids to know.

Because there are no guarantees.

Because all of The Now is so fleeting.

Because one day they’ll be holding a tea cup in their hands, wondering what should be done with it, and if they knew that that tea cup had been a plaything for their great-grandmother in a little wooden house in Danville, Virginia in the early 1900’s – well, maybe they’ll want it sitting on their shelves too.

And, even better, if they are occassionally allowed to touch said tea cup and even drink from the mini porcelain treasure, then when they let their own daughter lovingly caress its tiny handle and admire its dainty artwork, they will be passing on so much more than an heirloom.

They’ll be sharing a memory and a heritage and keeping a great-grandmother named Mildred alive long after her body has been buried.

And that’s a marvel.

So when London and Mosely held up two itsy-bitsy doll outfits purchased last week by their grandparents and asked if they could wash them in the sink for fun, I knew just what to do.

They watched as I grabbed the stool and pulled a small red contraption from a shelf in the kitchen.

“What’s that?” they asked.

“It’s a washing machine,”  I answered.  “Specially designed for doll clothes.”

As they added water and soap to the little glass and metal toy, I told them a story.

About a little girl named Irlanda.  And the dolls she loved.  About how she once got her finger caught in the rungs of a real ringer washing device.  About how she lived in a city that held doll competitions in the park on Saturday mornings.  And she entered her doll.  And she won.

Mosely and London cleaned their tiny doll clothes.  Berg came along and helped swish the actually-still-working toy.

And we all gained a little something as The Past jumped into The Present.