“We didn’t have much, but we had love.” ― Tyler Perry
“I’ve not always possessed what I’ve wanted, but I always received what I needed, and most days it was simply the love of friends and family, and the ability to live comfortably in my own skin.” ― From Mixed Metaphors, Oh My! Dispatch from the Hideout: Letter to Loved Ones
It’s that time of year when we celebrate the holidays, often the traditions of the generations that preceded us, the food we eat, the rituals we recreate, the stories we tell, and the memories we share. This is our legacy. It’s also that time of year when many of us look back and reflect on the year behind us and grieve our loved ones no longer present in life.
We inherit many things from our family, from our DNA to our shared lived experiences, both nature and nurture. We also inherit material things, bequeaths, mementos, and gifts from family, friends, and loved ones. They also represent a legacy. What creates a person’s legacy?
“When a person dies, the mark the individual left on the world represents that individual’s legacy… it is about the richness of the individual’s life, including what that person accomplished and the impact he or she had on people and places. Ultimately, the story of a person’s life reflects the individual’s legacy.”
Most of us would agree that legacy, as defined above, holds the most value, and when we look at our own lives, especially as we age, we begin to question what our legacy will be, what will we leave behind?
As I grieve the people I’ve loved and love, some no longer present in my life except in memory, some still present, the small material things that have been passed on to me over time hold special meaning and are infused with the legacy of my loved ones. They are gifts of sentimental value, keepsakes.
I’m reminded as I write, as people have died from COVID-19 in the past 20 months, and families who’ve lost loved ones to the tragic, devastating, and deadly swath of the quad state tornadoes this weekend, the death of family members, friends, colleagues, and community members, are the greatest loss.
However, in the wake of events like this, whether from the unexpected or untimely death of loved one due to illness, an accident, or natural disaster, we search for something to hold onto in our grief. We hold each other, and in events like the tornado, or wildfires, or floods this past summer, when homes are also destroyed, we search for the small material mementos and ephemera that remain, and are the material legacy of our lives.
Now, full disclosure, I take a moment to acknowledge that many of us of a certain age have inherited boxes full of material possessions our parents or relatives have purged, before or after their deaths. Often, they believe they are gifting us things of value, at a time when many of us are also trying to simplify our lives and let go of material stuff we no longer want or need. This is not an essay or reminiscence about inherited monetary or property wealth, instead I take a look at the things, however small and often worthless to others, create my legacy from loved ones.
Inheritance
The Legacy of Material Things
Following is a pictorial inventory of some of my most precious keepsakes, material things infused with the memories of loved ones, some absent in my life due to death, some still present, the legacy of material things.
Family
Backstory: My mother died in 2016, sister, Roz in 2012, and Cindy in 2019. Grandmothers, great grandmothers, aunts, and other family years before. Our 91-year-old father still lives independently in our childhood Cape Cod-style home in Racine, Wisconsin with the help of my sister, Kelly, and her husband, Bill.
Mom’s Glass Menagerie
More glass menagerie.
Each member of our family had at least one collection. Mom collected bells in addition to her other collections. When she died, Dad said each family member could select a bell as a remembrance.
Mom’s family heritage was Dutch. Her grandmother and mother always had handmade doilies to protect the furniture. This is one of Mom’s that she saved.
A garnet, which was once my maternal grandmother’s and originally set as a broach, was then passed on to my mother’s sister Betty, who wore it when she married, then it became my mother’s who gave it to me since it’s my birthstone.
Glass Easter egg that belonged to my mother’s Dutch grandfather, passed on to me.
Mom’s ceramic Christmas Tree, given to my sister Tami, who then gave it to me. I turn on the lights all year and it reminds me of my mother and Christmas’s past
Dad bought this chipmunk figurine for his mother when he was young. It was broken many times and glued back together. A metaphor for the resilience of our family. He smiles at my smile on the bookshelf.
Engraved Lenzke brass doorknocker. It remained on the door of the house I grew up in until Dad replaced a door with an oval window. I claimed it.
High school graduation photos of all the Lenzke children. I’m in the upper left, the eldest (and fading!) and Roz, to my right, and Cindy, below me (both deceased), next in birth order Rick, with Kelly, lower left, and Tami, lower right. This photo formerly hung in the living room.
My bronzed baby shoes.
Childhood Easter basket.
Glass vase that belonged to my Aunt Betty, then me (I’d put gladiolas from the Farmer’s Market in it). When Mom admired it, I gave it to her. It ended up in my parents’ attic for years, I claimed it again.
This pitcher belonged to my maternal grandmother, than my sister, Cindy, and then passed on to me.
Mom embroidered this Serenity Prayer when she went into recovery. It was displayed at her visitation, and now hangs back in the family home. When Dad dies, I inherit it.
Public Auction painting in a barn wood frame. This originally belonged to my Aunt Betty and her common law husband, Les. It hung after Betty’s death in our father’s, 1960’s Knotty Pine Basement Bar for decades. When Dad could no longer do the stairs, this is one of two things I asked for. It now hangs in my kitchen.
My sister Roz and I. I’m on the left, Roz on the right. Mom and Dad often dressed us as twins, only the color of our dresses would be different.
Ceramic Flamenco dancers. Mom collected many ceramic and porcelain dolls, bells, pewter, glass vases, plus her glass animals. Our paternal grandmother had a similar set. They dance in the dust on the top of my refrigerator.
A camel bladder hand-painted lamp from a hippie headshop in our hometown of Racine. It was gift from my sister Cindy.
Three gits from my sisters. Top left a custom-made stained glass box from my sister Cindy. I formerly collected boxes. Center a ceramic Resist mug or vase, a gift from sister Tami. On the right, a ceramic Kraft paper bag, also a gift from Tami. I used to keep it on a counter in the entrance of an apartment. One day when I was dusting, I found that a maintenance person had thrown screws in it thinking it was a paper bag. I often wonder what his or her reaction was.
My great grandmother, Helen Tillie Annie Flanigan collected clowns. This was an Emmett Kelly, Jr. inspired ‘hobo’. As a child his ‘Hi Ya’ greeting always made me feel welcomed. It now greets me from my desk.
My sister Cindy collected ceramic roosters. Before she died from cancer, when family and friends packed up her apartment, the collection was boxed up and stored at my sister, Tami’s and her husband, Ron’s home, where Cindy was cared for by Tami’s family the remaining days of her life. When she died, Tami and Ron hosted an impromptu wake on the day of her death for friends, family, and neighbors. Ron announced at one point, “I’m going to bring up Cindy’s ‘Box of Cock’s’ so everyone can choose one.” It was one of those moments when humor was the perfect balm for the grief we were experiencing. This is the cock I chose. I always admired it!
Friends
Backstory: As a person in recovery, I consider most, if not all, my friends to be chosen family. When I was estranged from my bio family we created ‘The Orphans’, a chosen family who celebrated holidays together, supported each other, and loved with an open and accepting heart. In the end, an enduring legacy of love.
Friend, chosen family, and Pod Squad member, Leanne, gave me this mother/daughter figure and heart as we both grieved the deaths of our beloved mothers.
Artist friend, Robin Good, gave me this gift of her artwork which was featured in the Wisconsin Triennial Show.
Loved Ones
Backstory: I’ve been married to and divorced from my first love, Frank, came out as a lesbian, consider myself a serial monogamist, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have been in a number of committed partnerships of varying duration. In a couple of those relationships, I co-parented as the non-biological parent. I’ve remained single (by choice) for 14 years, oh my! Whenever possible, I’ve reconciled with my exes and consider them friends and chosen family members. This collection of keepsakes and ephemera also includes the many poems, love letters, greeting cards, and photographs I’ve saved from loved ones.
When I went home for Thanksgiving in 2019, I returned with a bottle of wine I made with my former husband, Frank in 1973. The wine was a gift to my parents and was kept in my father’s 1960’s Knotty Pine Basement Bar, stored on its side in a cool, darkened basement for 46 years. It appears to be free of any sediment or issues with the cork. Frank and I made a few batches of wine in our pantry. The Blackberry wine made with Cabernet Sauvignon yeast was our most flavorful wine. This is the last bottle that remains.
Frank and I plan on sharing this bottle of wine with two of his friends. Since I’m a recovering alcoholic, I’ll swish the wine in the glass, sniff its bouquet, taste it and spit it out. I’m just curious if it aged well or turned into vinegar.
Many years ago I had a freelance graphic design business (before computer technology and design programs). It was named Belle Starr Graphics. Frank had this custom-made necklace of my logo created for me as a gift.
I used to collect boxes, Frank had this leather box with a woman’s symbol custom-made for me.
While I was still married, I had a romantic friendship with Megan, a photographer. I was absolutely in love with her, yet not ready to leave my marriage. Many people assumed we were lovers, we were, but never sexually, except for the physical affection we shared with each other. This is a framed collection of her photographic postcards.
Megan was a portrait photographer. This is a ‘rogues gallery’ of portraits of me, Megan, the softball team we played on, and the Feminist-Consciousness Training retreats we’d attend together. Megan died of breast cancer.
After I separated from Frank, I lived for awhile with lover and partner, Mary, an Amelia Earhart look alike who gave me this gift when I went through my Pierrot Clown phase. It’s also a box, so it was a wonderful addition to my box collection.
An ex, Tracy, from 30 years ago has been a friend and chosen family member. Tracy delivered this heart to me last Christmas in 2020.
The inscription on the back of the handmade heart.
An Easter Alice in Wonderland-themed snow globe. A gift from my ex, and long term-partner, Cindy who is now a friend and chosen family member. Easter had a bittersweet significance in our relationship.
Gifts from Cindy, a sterling silver rope bracelet, a commitment ring, which I continue to wear, simply because I still love it, though it doesn’t have the same meaning and significance, and lastly, a heart paperweight.
A clay marble pot made for me by Kelsey, a young girl I co-parented. She gave it to me on Mother’s Day. The marble pot holds magical, material things and memories.
What Does It All Mean?
Though I’ve not kept all the items bequeathed to me from family, I’ve attempted to pass them on to family members who would appreciate and treasure them. Since I was the eldest maternal granddaughter, and my parents’ firstborn girl, I inherited two sets of dinner China, first from my maternal grandmother which I passed on to my sister Cindy, and my mother’s China purchased with S&H Green Stamps earned at our family’s Piggly Wiggly Grocery Store, which I passed on to my niece Casey, except for three items I wanted to keep, a butter dish, sugar dish, and creamer which I use regularly.
From my sister Cindy, who enjoyed cooking, she passed on a kitchen appliance to each of her remaining sisters, a Vitamix blender, a KitchenAid Mixer, and an Instant Pot. I inherited the latter. I live in a small apartment with a lack of cabinets, so I passed it on to my niece Jennifer and her wife Becky, who like to cook and have a large pantry.
The material things that remain, inhabit my home and are visual reminders of the people I love, who are no longer present in my life in one form or another, or in the very least, those that still remain, the keepsakes are reminders of our love for each other.
The most treasured legacy is not the material thing itself, instead they’re the memories and shared lived experiences they represent, the evidence we existed in each other’s lives for a moment, a decade, or a lifetime on this earth. Eternally grateful!
Postscript: In April, 2022, I picked up up my childhood report cards. This keepsake was a snapshot of who I was as an elementary and middle school student, and a preview of who I became as an adult. To read more: Childhood Report Cards: Snapshots of the Future.
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!