Tchotchkes

I have a memory of being on holiday with my parents in PEI and the need to stop at the gift shop at Rainbow Valley to make sure we got spoon for a Nanny.  I am not sure if all of you have seen a spoon collection but if you grew up in Cape Breton or any part of the Maritimes for that matter, the spoon collection usually had a place of pride in the house.  It was a record of your travels or the travels of those you loved. 

The spoon collection was just one of many our mother had. There was the china set, the Royal Daulton’s and miniature tea sets. Our home was full of tchotchkes (a complete aside, I love the word tchotchkes), which made dusting in our house a lengthy and arduous process. In Mom’s defense, it was very common among her and her parent’s generations to have these collections.  Both my mother and her parents knew times of great want and being able to buy things that were for the sole purpose of “looking pretty” was a luxury. Let’s be honest there was a bit of peacock to it as well.  It was a chance to strut some “feathers” and take pride in your things.

However, near the end of her life for my mother all of these collections were perhaps not as “valuable” as they first had been.  I think that is fair, what makes you happy in one point of your life will not necessarily make you happy all of your life.  As Mom aged, I think what constituted a luxury changed, things like time spent us and the rest of the family became her treasures. 

A friend of mine posted something on Facebook last week and it resonated with me very deeply, “I want a passport full stamps, not a house full of stuff”.  I realize now that perhaps Mom may have begun to doubt it but there was real value in those spoon collections, perhaps not obvious at first but there none the less.  It taught my sister and me that there was a world beyond ours.  I didn’t do this consciously but somewhere along the line I realized that I never wanted a spoon collections but I was very happy to travel and bring one home to you.

Doreen and I are both excited when there is a new stamp in the passport.  I guard my expired passports like treasure, not because I am scared of identity theft but rather because those stamps bring me joy.  Well, in fairness it is the memories they evoke, they are a scrapbook of sorts.

Doreen would say that I have never been one for collecting stuff (except for books), that is mainly due to the “military posting purge” phenomena I witnessed during my time with my ex-husband.  However, even I have a memory box that is full of ticket stubs, subway tokens and show programs.  Having said that I am not as bad as Doreen who quite literally just got rid of 30 year old sugar packets that were from a hotel we stayed at in England during the late 80’s!! 

So I guess, as our mother, Doreen and I are also collectors. It is just that we have found that we want our collections to be memories and reminders of adventures, exploring new places, meeting new people. Much like the display of her collection in a china cabinet, Doreen and I now show our “feathers” through social media with snaps of the latest adventure.

Doreen here writing from the airport in Panama…

So this is one of those things that while growing up, Deb and I differed. I was the collector. And in comparison to Deb, I still am. I collected pins, cans, precious moments figurines, teddy bears and other memorabilia. Deb mentioned a box, well I had a memory room. A bedroom size space filled with things I treasured. At that point in my life, seeing those things gave me joy.

It was not until Mom was sick that I changed my perspective. I remember one of her last nights at home. She had just had a visit from two of her close friends from the boat. They drove all the way from North Sydney, NS to Saint John, NB to say their goodbyes. After they left, Mom stood in front of her cabinet with her Royal Doultons. She grabbed both sides with her hands and just looked in at them. She then gently placed her head on it. She went on to tell me that I should not collect things because look - what good were they going to do her now. It really changed my perspective.

That said, I still have more of a memory tote collection than a memory box, but I keep and collect only the things that make be remember important times, events and people in my life. Athough we differ slightly in our approaches, Deb and I would both agree that you need to do (or collect) the things in life that give you joy.

Understand that what matters to you might not matter to others and that is ok. If you love tchotchkes then fill your house with them. If you love travel, embrace it. That is the joy of taking time to understand yourself. You find what you love and can fill your days or house with that.