Mary over at Hope Echoes hosts Tuesday Treasures each week. Stop by and check it out.Here is Grandma with Princess when she was just 3 or so. Grandma was collecting eggs from her hen house. Grandma was 86 years young in this one. Still living on the farm alone, with chickens to tend. When the chickens got to be too much, we knew her days in the Boondocks were numbered.
This is one of my favorite treasures. Doesn't look like much, does it? An old soda can, that has seen better days. Sometimes the treasure isn't in the value, or even in the aesthetic properties. Sometimes the treasure lies in the memories. . .
This old can used to have a picture drawn on the side, with my name, T-A-M-I neatly printed on the side. It was my very own bank my Grandma B. made, just for me. When I would visit on Saturday, which was the weekend tradition--Saturday Grandma B., Sundays with Grandma L., I would go to the cupboard and get out my bank. Oh the fun I had counting the change.
My Grandma's house wasn't fancy. She often joked that she lived in a tar paper shack, which wasn't far from the truth. What Grandma's house lacked in "things", it more than made up for in love and fun. There was slopping the pigs, carrying in baby lambs in the spring, collecting the sap from the maple trees for syrup, gardening, doing laundry with the old fashioned ringer machine, mushrooming, wood hauling, tractor driving and card playing until late into the night. My favorite task at Grandma's house was baking-she even let me eat the dough! I could go on and on. You see, Grandma didn't have electricity until 1977, and running water with indoor plumbing came a few years after that.This was taken the last time I visited my Grandma B. at the home place. (She has since moved to a nursing home.) Bubby was just 4 months old. He was meeting his great-grandma for the first time, which was extra special for me. Bubby was born on her 89th birthday. When we arrived that day I made a comment about him being her birthday present, and without even missing a beat she replied, "Well, do I get to keep him then?"
Looking at this old soda can doesn't mean a whole lot to others. In fact, on a few occasions Mr. Nomad has almost thrown it out while unpacking. However, when I hold this old can, it brings back a flood gate of happy memories from my childhood. It brings back a place where I was unconditionally loved. A place where I was made to feel worthwhile. Over the years I written numerous gushing letters to my Grandma. I needed her to know how much I love her, and how much I appreciated all she has done for me. Grandma only brushed off the praise, and prefers to hear about the everyday happenings of my life as a momma. You see, that is my Grandma B. She is quiet, strong, hard-working, and loving. I hope I can grow up to be as wonderful as my Grandma B.