Buttons

Yesterday, I was playing on Pinterest before work. It was an attempt to de-stress before I walked into the job that I loathe. There was a couple of pics of buttons that caught my eye. I thought "Hmmm...interesting, but why are these in my feed? I haven't pinned anything crafty in...well, forever." If there had been only a few pics, I'd have let them go. However, the more I scrolled, the more buttons there were. I said "Okay, I hear ya!" and I started a board specifically for buttons.

What this process did was open a vast well of memories. Sitting with my mom at her sewing machine with a needle, thread, and her button box, threading buttons onto the string while she sewed clothes. Going through my grandma's button boxes searching for treasures. For me, every button told a story.

 

Button boxes are things of the past, I think. However, I have a button box from my grandma. In it is a set of buttons from a pair of her mother's shoes, buttons from my mother's childhood dresses, a button from an old military uniform plus buttons from my grandpa's shirts. I also have a button box that belonged to my mom. There are buttons from the many clothes she made over the years. 

See I love the smell of these button boxes. That musty smell that only comes with age. But it is the fact that each button in those boxes tells a story. Even the ones that are still on the cards that my mom had purchased. I wrote my grandma a poem about her button box one year. Yeah, that's how much I love the stories and memories lovingly tucked inside each of these boxes.

A year or so ago, someone very dear to me went to a garage sale. They will claim that they had no idea why they bought me the gift that they did. They just saw it and thought it might be something I'd enjoy. I opened the top of the old Ball jar with the old metal and wax lid and sniffed as deeply as if they were a bouquet of the most exotic flowers. Inside was a bunch of buttons. Wooden ones, metal ones, resin ones, and even some painted ones. They are so beautiful and so special to me.

In an age of underappreciated things and often overlooked items, button boxes, to me, are the treasure troves filled with memories and stories. So whatever the universe was trying to tell me, I heard. 

Buttons, people, are my special obsession. Always have been and seems like it always will be.

Long Line of Love

The other day I was getting ready for school and I pulled out a necklace that I'd put away a while ago. There's nothing wrong with it. It's an unusual piece and I adore it. I just don't wear gold jewelry. I lean toward silver or, better yet, stainless steel. But as I was preparing to leave the house, this piece spoke to me. And it hasn't left my neck since.

When my grandma died, there was one piece of her jewelry I wanted more than anything. I remember asking for it and no one cared for it. It wasn't something they would wear. What's funny is that no one knew the story behind it. Grandma had only bothered to tell me.

My grandmother's father passed away in 1983 (I think it was). I was right around 11 years old. Grandma and Grandpa were divorced. Grandma, in a sentimental act unlike her, took her mother and father's wedding bands along with her and grandpa's bands to the jeweler. He melted the gold down and formed the pendant below.

I remember going with her to the jeweler to pick it up. She came out of the store, got into the car, and told me the story of the pendant. 

When times I got hard and I struggled financially, I had to sell a lot of my jewelry to have cash simply for groceries and gas. I often thought I would have to sell this piece, but my heart broke just thinking I might have to. Just when things were to the point where I was having to think of selling it, money would come through and I'd make it another month.

It is an odd looking piece and not something people would love to wear. However, it is a reminder to me...that I have come from a long line of love. During the holidays (and sometimes along the way), I need to be reminded of that.

Do you have something that reminds you of who you are or where you come from? Tell me about it, please!