I started an online vintage clothing store a couple of months ago, and its been really fun. Yesterday, I got a call out of the blue from a friend who told me that her mom was helping clean out a house and they had a whole closet full of vintage clothing they needed to get rid of, and she had thought of me. I was really excited and grateful as I went down to load my car up with the stuff. When I got home and started looking through the clothes, I was amazed at what I'd been given. There are some really INCREDIBLE vintage pieces in the mix.
I know it may not seem like a huge deal, but sometimes it's the little things in life that encourage me the most, you know? Things that help spur me on or remind me why I do the things I love to do in the first place. I'm a big vintage buff-- I am absolutely fascinated by objects that carry history and stories with them. I've always been this way. I'm a thrift store junkie. Vintage books are like little treasures in my hands. I'm a bit of a daydreamer, so I love to picture the people who may have owned the books and things before me.
I've never really stopped to think about why I'm like this, but this random gift of clothing yesterday got me wondering what it is about vintage things, or things with history, that excite me so.
I believe that we, as humans, all have a desire to be part of something... a community, a family, a group of people... A bigger picture. I think we also long to be part of a story. A story with adventure and surprising twists and romance and danger... Sword fights near the edges of cliffs, or daring castle rescues, or standing up for what is right even if it means your neck. We all want to live lives that will have a lasting effect-- lives that could fill the pages of a book and be read for years and years and years.
At least, that's me anyways. Knowing the stories behind things makes me feel connected to the people who lived before me. Listening to old family history gives me a glimpse of that bigger picture I long to be a part of. It reminds me that my little family tree has roots-- roots that support and give life... and without these roots, my tree wouldn't even exist! And someday, I'll be part of the root system of another tree- unseen, but crucial. And every car that I pass on the crowded roads holds a person inside with a huge root system all of their own. It baffles the mind.
I also believe that some of us are given the 'gift' of being able to Chronicle life as we know it. You know that person in your family that collects stories like jewels? A Chronicler. That's what this blog is for me. When I write these stories or feelings, I'm thinking of the people years from now that might read them. I'm thinking of Ezra as a grown man- sitting in a cozy chair somewhere, smiling to himself as he reads about his goofy mother's antics and the special ways he drove her bonkers. I'm thinking of his grandchildren who might one day ask what Great-Grandma-Emery was like.
My mom sent a box of old family Christmas decorations to Chris and I the other day. Things that I remember having as a small girl. It was such a joy to open that package. The memories poured out of it as I pulled each object out of the box one-by-one. In that box I also found some proof that I have always been a "Chronicler"-- someone who has wanted to leave an accurate account of themselves for the future generations. Here is that proof:
No! It was given to me by an old babysitter named "Ooee".
Here's the 'Chronicler' in me coming out.
A new addition- How could I resist??
I'm sure 'Ooee' had no idea that this little plastic Christmas placemat would mean so much to me 20 years later. But it does. It encourages me to keep doing what I'm doing... It gives me insight on who I really am... And it reminds me that I'm still that little girl who longs to be a part of something more.