The things I love most in my life are those that cannot be purchased or replaced. They are the things that I would run into my burning house to rescue. Things with a story and meaning. Things that have meaning to only me.
My parents divorced when I was 12. Sometime after I became an adult my mom gave me her wedding dress. They got married in 1970, back in the day where a wedding could be planned in weeks, not months or years. When the reception consisted of coffee and cake in the church basement, not a band and sit down dinner with an open bar. There is something to be said about simplicity. I love this dress. I know I should take it to the cleaners and get it cleaned and boxed but in all honesty I’m afraid they’d damage it. And I like taking it out once in a while and looking at it.
She also gave me her wedding ring. I don’t have a macro lens so the quality of this image is crap, but it is what it is. I remember hearing the story that at one point during their engagement my parents broke up and my mom gave the ring back to my dad. He took it to a pawn shop to sell and and the guy said “This quality of this diamond is wonderful, but it’s basically just a chip of a diamond. I can’t give you anything for it.” Good thing, too, since they got back together and eventually married!
We used to spend holidays at the farm on which my mom grew up. There are certain things I vividly remember. The painting “The Last Supper” above the kitchen table. The cellar where potatoes and vegetables were stored. Feather mattresses. The Christmas my grandpa cried because all of his kids chipped in and got him a new TV. The Crucifix hanging on the wall in the living room. At some point after both of my grandparents had passed the Crucifix showed up in my mom’s house. I told her I wanted that when she died. I didn’t quite expect it to happen as early as it did, but true to her word she took it off the wall and gave it to me a couple of weeks before her death. It now hangs in my kitchen, along with the Rosary that was placed in her hands at the visitation. It was also held by her mother in the same situation. I have asked my relatives for the origins of the Crucifix but no one seems to know. It slides open and holds 2 candles and an empty vial that once had Holy Water and were intended for Last Rites. The candles appeared to have been used, but I’ll never know when or where this treasure came from.