I think we all have stuff around the house that belonged to our parents or grandparents. Maybe it belonged to someone else, but whomever it belonged to it is special to us. Heck, with me it even counts when I didn't personally know the person. I was thinking about the other day when I used Grandma Mo's cookie jar. Now Grandma Mo, that's what I'm told she was called, real name Elizabeth, was grandmother to my wife. Her son, the man I knew as Uncle George, was the man I got to know, if only for a short time. I've written about him in the past. It is from his home that the cookie jar and a few other items came after his passing. Thing is, I never met Grandma Mo, I've only heard stories about her. Wonderful stories told with heartfelt sentiments. Makes me wish I had met her.
The thing with me is I like to use those items, not just have them sitting around. I'll use that cookie jar, we have Grandma Mo's rolling pin and I use that also. I have a few hand tools from my Dad. I have some crocheted articles from an aunt. That's the kind of stuff that I'm talking about. Great Grandfathers mantle clock sits on my desk, tick-tocking away. When it chimes on the hour or half hour I am reminded of him. I remember that clock sitting on a shelf in his home, I don't remember it running there though, isn't that strange. There are other small things around like that obtained from various people. I am reminded of those folks whenever I use the item. Of course I have a great number of pictures around. My pictures are a cause of concern to me. I wonder what will happen to them when I'm gone. Many of them only I would know what they are and where they were taken. And it's true already, there are some I don't remember the situation or story behind them. You know what I mean? Pictures snapped on vacation because it was interesting at the moment, but the moment has been forgotten. It's a funny thing about photographs, they don't give you a photographic memory. No, you still have to remember the moment, or at least write it down. But holding something in your hand is a different experience, at least for me it is. I guess that is why I like to use those items. I'm not worried about breaking them I'm worried about forgetting them. Does that make sense to you?
What I'm talking about are tactile memories. You see Uncle George, at the end of his life was blind. Legally blind anyway as he could tell light and dark if they were extreme enough. He could usually be found sitting at his kitchen table. That table was covered with the items he used in his everyday life. Looked a mess to me but it was very organized to him. That was simply because his became a tactile world. It must have been very difficult for him as he was a man that enjoyed taking photographs and later in life making video tapes. He kept his things close at hand, by necessity. I'm fortunate in that my vision is alright, I don't have any issues in that regard. I can't imagine what that would be like.
I'm thinking it is an inherited trait, this tactile sense. I've always enjoyed working with my hands, repairing, building, creating or whatever. I even enjoy the feel of typing this blog. I type by sight, not by memory of where the keys are. If I were blind I couldn't type a single word. Typing to me is almost like playing a video game, it's a challenge, can I get it done? To go from sight to creation. It makes little difference what it is you are creating. Well it does make a difference depending upon what it is you are creating. But anyway, I can absorb previous users senses when using objects. Is that strange? It sounds weird. It also something I hadn't given much thought to until recently. Maybe we are the aliens? Maybe my alien side is coming out. I don't have a photographic memory but maybe I can develop tactile memory. Wouldn't it be something if you could just hold a photograph and relive the moment. Now that is weird.
The thing with me is I like to use those items, not just have them sitting around. I'll use that cookie jar, we have Grandma Mo's rolling pin and I use that also. I have a few hand tools from my Dad. I have some crocheted articles from an aunt. That's the kind of stuff that I'm talking about. Great Grandfathers mantle clock sits on my desk, tick-tocking away. When it chimes on the hour or half hour I am reminded of him. I remember that clock sitting on a shelf in his home, I don't remember it running there though, isn't that strange. There are other small things around like that obtained from various people. I am reminded of those folks whenever I use the item. Of course I have a great number of pictures around. My pictures are a cause of concern to me. I wonder what will happen to them when I'm gone. Many of them only I would know what they are and where they were taken. And it's true already, there are some I don't remember the situation or story behind them. You know what I mean? Pictures snapped on vacation because it was interesting at the moment, but the moment has been forgotten. It's a funny thing about photographs, they don't give you a photographic memory. No, you still have to remember the moment, or at least write it down. But holding something in your hand is a different experience, at least for me it is. I guess that is why I like to use those items. I'm not worried about breaking them I'm worried about forgetting them. Does that make sense to you?
What I'm talking about are tactile memories. You see Uncle George, at the end of his life was blind. Legally blind anyway as he could tell light and dark if they were extreme enough. He could usually be found sitting at his kitchen table. That table was covered with the items he used in his everyday life. Looked a mess to me but it was very organized to him. That was simply because his became a tactile world. It must have been very difficult for him as he was a man that enjoyed taking photographs and later in life making video tapes. He kept his things close at hand, by necessity. I'm fortunate in that my vision is alright, I don't have any issues in that regard. I can't imagine what that would be like.
I'm thinking it is an inherited trait, this tactile sense. I've always enjoyed working with my hands, repairing, building, creating or whatever. I even enjoy the feel of typing this blog. I type by sight, not by memory of where the keys are. If I were blind I couldn't type a single word. Typing to me is almost like playing a video game, it's a challenge, can I get it done? To go from sight to creation. It makes little difference what it is you are creating. Well it does make a difference depending upon what it is you are creating. But anyway, I can absorb previous users senses when using objects. Is that strange? It sounds weird. It also something I hadn't given much thought to until recently. Maybe we are the aliens? Maybe my alien side is coming out. I don't have a photographic memory but maybe I can develop tactile memory. Wouldn't it be something if you could just hold a photograph and relive the moment. Now that is weird.
No comments:
Post a Comment