All These Old Things

How often have we have heard, if only these objects could talk. I wonder who owned them. I wonder what their story is.

All these old things that I have collected, one by one throughout the years, are older than me—much older than me. They’ve been handed down from here and there, may be valued, maybe not; most of them are handmade in some way.

They bring beauty to my eyes. They create our home, and they will go on beyond me. When my body turns to ash, they will be passed on to someone else.

In some unexplainable way. I like to think that whoever owned these things before me, whoever created them, their energy lingers there and surrounds me. I’d like to think that my energy connects to theirs. It will go forward and make someone happy too.

As I dust them for the 100th time- I wonder where they will go on their journey—into different homes? Perhaps for another hundred years? Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I am glad they were in our home.



Comments

5 responses to “All These Old Things”

  1. We are caretakers of these beautiful objects that go on. And that’s an important role in their survival. Btw, love that painting in the first photo.

  2. Wanda smith

    Corey your home and life is so interesting and beautiful!! Only wish Karen- Amy and I could have met you

  3. So true, just caretakers! It’s good to be reminded of that. We are all just passing through. Other people will have our homes, gardens, and all the things that we value.
    In years to come, someone else will say, who was the person that valued that, and dusted, and preserved this…

  4. Darlene Weathers-Gast

    I’m at “that age” when I need to start “going through things”! 😂 For the last year when my family is here I tell everyone ‘if you see something you like put your name on it’…it will be yours when I’m gone!

  5. Your thoughts resonate with me, too. Everything old that I have chanced to share time and space with I also believe that I have imbued with my own energy, even if just for a short time. I think it is that collective consciousness we share in appreciating that some long distant hands once employed their time and talent in making this object.

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