Dishing up Memories

dishes-in-cabinetIn my grandmother’s day, her good dishes often held mashed potatoes, gravy, and heaping helpings of chicken and biscuits. In my possession they occasionally still hold foodstuffs. But they always are filled with memories.

She used her fine china only for special occasions, which didn’t involve small children. Her pink floral Homer Laughlins were the dishes I remembered from Thanksgiving dinners and other meals at her house when I was a child. Both sets of dishes were passed on to me decades ago.

Grandma’s dishes (I still call them Grandma’s dishes.) reside in my mother’s china cabinet, which I’ve had since my mother’s death in 2004. Fourteen years later, I still think of the cabinet as hers. I merely provide a home for this stately armoire. I am the caretaker, the conservator, the docent for the collection of meaningful things stored inside.

Grandma’s dishes and a few of my mother’s are among the finer pieces. My mother collected pretty things for “looking at” and I have some of her floral plates, dainty teacups, and other fancy glass. They are kept company by a blue and white luncheon dish set that had belonged to my mother-in-law. My husband inherited the set after she died. Beside these pretties are an assortment of breakables including a few items that some might call downright odd: an old glass milk bottle I use as a vase, a commemorative plate depicting an old church, and a small glass ax — a souvenir from the 1910 Illinois State Fair.

Why do I like this stuff? Because these items cannot be found in a big box store. Ever. They are unique. But more important are the memories they hold.

Whether it came from my family or my husband’s family, an estate sale or a garage sale, everything in this china cabinet represents a memory. Every dish, cup, bowl, plate, vase, or tchotchke means something. They are beautiful, useful, or some combination thereof. As I use them or simply look at them, I remember my grandmother, my mother, and my mother-in-law. I honor the unknown ladies whose treasures are now in my care, as well as the Iowa church ladies who hosted my wedding shower 30 years ago. (That’s where the blue glass pedestal cake plate came from.)

I may not cook much, but as I use or simply admire my collection of meaningful things, I dish up memories every day.

Laura Sternweis


2 thoughts on “Dishing up Memories

  1. I use my mother’s dishes. She saved them for good and special occasions, that never quite came. Oh well, They break sometimes, but they remind me that every day is a gift and you never know when a special memory will sneak up on you.


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