Yes, Maygen, You Will Change Your Mind
Hello, darling young friends. You make us giggle when you talk about how old you feel now that you’re 30. Oh, don’t think my mature friends and I are jealous of your youthful status for one minute. I truly hope you enjoy the next twenty years of early morning school alarms and carpool lines. “Grumpy teens are fun!” you’ll tell yourselves, while waking in the middle of the night in a sweat over college acceptance letters. And speaking of awaking in a sweat, hang on to your hat, Nellie.
Honestly, it’s not that bad. The children will entertain you with “witty antics,” like coloring on your new sofa with a marker, but then, some sweet day, the crazy train will drop you off at my current station of “Freeville,” where you’ll be free from smelly baseball cleats, free to travel, free to leisurely lunch with the ladies, and free-wheeling with the advice—which I’ll give you now, for free, of course.
Here’s my first free tip of the week: You will absolutely 100% change your mind about family heirlooms. Snubbing Grandma’s china and silver today will result in future decades of angst. When your precious Lulu (not “Elizabeth” like you should have properly named her) is bringing home Jaxon and his parents, you’ll realize the only dishes you own are a chipped set that came in a tote from the Big Box Bargain Bonanza, and you’ll choke on chunky regret.
“Kicking myself! Kicking myself!” you’ll cry.
“Why didn’t I take Nana’s Wedgwood when I had the chance? What am I going to do? Serve Company Chicken Casserole with crunchy little water chestnuts on paper plates and iced tea in red Solo cups? What kind of hootenanny is this going to be?”
Lulu and her sister Ella will share memories of family dinners where they fought over who got to drink from the good Toy Story insulated tumbler. They won’t know what a meat fork is and will shrug when their sorority housemother hands them a cloth napkin. When their future mother-in-law asks them to help clear the table, they’ll be confused when they can’t toss everything into the rubbish bin.
Truly, I understand. When you are young, real china, crystal, furniture, and whatnots seem like a big hassle. They require creative storage solutions and need a bit of dusting from time to time. Whoo boy! What a chore. How did my friends and I ever manage to shove all those wedding gifts, hand-me-down chairs, monogrammed linens, and china into our tiny apartments and still have room to do leg lifts with Jane Fonda? We lived by two mottos: “Make the hair bigger,” and, “There’s always room for the punch bowl.” Of course, we also didn’t feel the need to make our first homes look perfect according to social media standards.
We can promise everyone under the age of 35 this truth, tastes and styles change and yes, You-Will-Change-Your -Mind. Do you remember when you wanted bangs? Do you remember when you thought you’d retire rich from collecting Pokémon cards? How about promising your eternal love to the blue-eyed boy on Panama City Beach during spring break in 2013? We understand. We thought our future was secure with Mr. Fort Lauderdale 1980-something. He had a rainbow stripe on his Sun Britches.
I’m sure it’s written somewhere in the Southern Lady Bible, in the 2nd chapter of the book of “I Told You So,” that, “Thou shalt change thy mind anytime thou wisheth.” That’s why we rearrange the furniture every Friday and change outfits three times before noon.
Truly, you will one day see Granny’s Grand Baroque gleaming on your table and catch your breath as you somehow feel her warm arms around you. Seeing Aunt Velma Jean’s rocking chair in the guest room will remind you to tell the story of how she was the only Peanut Queen to earn her master’s degree in Agriculture. The pride of Dothan, indeed.
There will come a day when family tokens and their stories are all that’s left of those who loved you first and best.
Grandmother’s milk glass chicken, that once looked silly, will become precious as you clutch it in your hands and realize today would have been her 100th birthday. And brushing your fingers against her handkerchief tucked inside your pocket before you step into the job interview may remind you how she always whispered words of calm encouragement.
The knickknacks, bric-a-brac, china, crystal, and tchotchkes may look like extra baggage now, but I promise on your sweaty, plastic clog shoes you once thought were adorable, that you will someday change your mind.
Thanks for reading – share with someone who loves (or should love) your family treasures.