Recently, I inherited an old dresser from my dad. He had inherited it from his dad, and who knows where my Grandad got it from. But the memories of that old dresser are not contained in the beauty of it's finish, or the antiquity of it. The memory that is the best of it, is the stain that is on the top right hand corner.
When we were moving it, my son noticed this mark and commented that he could remove it for me and polish up the old piece. My answer? No. That watermark contains the most precious memory I have of my grandparents.
When I was just 6, I went to live with my grandparents because my mother was far too ill to care for me, and Dad was far too busy making a living. My grandmother, the most meticulous person born on the planet, taught me to carefully dust every thing, and put things right back in their place. I can still hear her voice " A place for everything, and everything in it's place." I would dust, and sometimes I would move things around, but she would always come back and put everything right where she had it before. At the time, I never thought about what those things meant to her. I was just doing my duties, as any child would.
I was barely halfway into my 7th year of living, when my grandmother fell in the garden on the brick walk and broke her hip. A week or so in the hospital, surgery, prayers, and careful watches, did not keep her with us. I know at night my grandfather must have cried, but I never saw it. I remember on the way to the cemetery, sitting next to him in the hearse, and watching this slight little smile, his face turned toward his hands, his eyes downcast, and I wondered, what on earth could possibly make him smile? After all, we were all alone now, he and I, and I could not see how we would make it without her.
Weeks later, I decided to take up my housecleaning duties again, and began to dust. I started in the living room, worked my way around and then into my grandparents bedroom. My grandfather was off doing farming things, and I supposed that when he came back he would be very proud of my labors. I toiled away until everything was nice,shiny and clean. And yes, since Grandmother wasn't there, I moved things around a bit.
When he returned from the fields, his pleasure at my accomplishment was obvious, but he carefully eyed where I had placed everything. As he walked through the house, I could see him mentally noting where I had moved things. Then he spoke very softly to me. "A place for everything, and everything in it's place, Susan." He picked up a pencil and walked with me to the bedroom.
He then did the unbelievable. Something that Grandmother would never approved of, in my opinion. He took a pencil, picked up her bottle of Old English Lavender from the top of the dresser and carefully placed it back where she had always kept it. Then he drew a nice little outline around it on the dresser top, and said,"Be sure to put the things right back where she had them." Continuing throughout the entire house, he marked each shelf, each piece of furniture with that pencil.
I was careful after that to always put things back where they belonged, but one day, I washed the cologne bottle before I put it back in it's place, and it made a horrible watermark. This is the same watermark that is on it to this day. At the time I noticed it, I as horrified that now there was not only a pencil mark, but also an ugly stain. It is still there, blaring out a message to me from my grandparents.
As I looked at it today, carefully polishing the top, the message it spoke to me from so many years ago has changed. Where it used to be an ugly mark, a reminder of my inadequacies and carelessness, now it is a reminder of the beautiful people who caused it to be there.
People come and go in life. Some leave your life unmarked, some leave watermarks. Treasure the watermarks, and remember those who made them.
Photo of Charles E. Linn on his farm in Pueblo, Colorado.
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.
When we were moving it, my son noticed this mark and commented that he could remove it for me and polish up the old piece. My answer? No. That watermark contains the most precious memory I have of my grandparents.
When I was just 6, I went to live with my grandparents because my mother was far too ill to care for me, and Dad was far too busy making a living. My grandmother, the most meticulous person born on the planet, taught me to carefully dust every thing, and put things right back in their place. I can still hear her voice " A place for everything, and everything in it's place." I would dust, and sometimes I would move things around, but she would always come back and put everything right where she had it before. At the time, I never thought about what those things meant to her. I was just doing my duties, as any child would.
I was barely halfway into my 7th year of living, when my grandmother fell in the garden on the brick walk and broke her hip. A week or so in the hospital, surgery, prayers, and careful watches, did not keep her with us. I know at night my grandfather must have cried, but I never saw it. I remember on the way to the cemetery, sitting next to him in the hearse, and watching this slight little smile, his face turned toward his hands, his eyes downcast, and I wondered, what on earth could possibly make him smile? After all, we were all alone now, he and I, and I could not see how we would make it without her.
Weeks later, I decided to take up my housecleaning duties again, and began to dust. I started in the living room, worked my way around and then into my grandparents bedroom. My grandfather was off doing farming things, and I supposed that when he came back he would be very proud of my labors. I toiled away until everything was nice,shiny and clean. And yes, since Grandmother wasn't there, I moved things around a bit.
When he returned from the fields, his pleasure at my accomplishment was obvious, but he carefully eyed where I had placed everything. As he walked through the house, I could see him mentally noting where I had moved things. Then he spoke very softly to me. "A place for everything, and everything in it's place, Susan." He picked up a pencil and walked with me to the bedroom.
He then did the unbelievable. Something that Grandmother would never approved of, in my opinion. He took a pencil, picked up her bottle of Old English Lavender from the top of the dresser and carefully placed it back where she had always kept it. Then he drew a nice little outline around it on the dresser top, and said,"Be sure to put the things right back where she had them." Continuing throughout the entire house, he marked each shelf, each piece of furniture with that pencil.
I was careful after that to always put things back where they belonged, but one day, I washed the cologne bottle before I put it back in it's place, and it made a horrible watermark. This is the same watermark that is on it to this day. At the time I noticed it, I as horrified that now there was not only a pencil mark, but also an ugly stain. It is still there, blaring out a message to me from my grandparents.
As I looked at it today, carefully polishing the top, the message it spoke to me from so many years ago has changed. Where it used to be an ugly mark, a reminder of my inadequacies and carelessness, now it is a reminder of the beautiful people who caused it to be there.
Photo of Charles E. Linn on his farm in Pueblo, Colorado.
Copyright © 2011 by Susan Linn-Gomez. All Rights Reserved.
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