A bit of a sit-down
Wednesday, December 17, 2014 by lifeonthecutoff
“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
From “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott
On a marathon mission to get some Christmas gifts, I stopped for a some refreshment and a bit of a sit-down. An elderly woman was enjoying her lunch with what appeared to be her granddaughter. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Large shopping bags filled with purchases nestled atop empty chairs at their table. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but the scene reminded me of a long ago December afternoon with my mother.
Ma wanted to do some Christmas shopping. I offered to take her. My mother learned to drive later in life. She approached 50 years old when she took to the wheel, after my father passed away. She drove mostly to work and back, which was barely a mile, and she would drive to our house, which was a direct route, with few turns.
On the day of our Christmas shopping, Ma drove to our house and then I drove my car to one of the shopping malls. I dropped her at the door of Carson’s and parked the car. We shopped, ate lunch and shopped a bit more. It was a pleasant time. My mom kept asking me what I wanted for Christmas.
Ma really tried hard to buy me the perfect gifts. I often regret that I wasn’t more appreciative of her efforts, though, I promise you, some were really hard to appreciate. One day, I will tell you the story of my 21st birthday and my “party dress”, which has grown to legendary status. Let me just hint that it had to do with gold lame, rhinestone buttons, dozens of pleats – in 1970 while I was in college!
We walked and talked and shopped and reminisced. It was a slow go as my mother had rheumatoid arthritis, which affected all her joints, but, especially her feet. As she started to tire, I thought aloud that we should head on home. We worked our way through Carson’s, via the lower level so I could get her to the elevator. As we walked through the housewares section, I stopped to look at the Pfaltzgraff Christmas plates. Ma looked as well. I casually commented how I always thought it would be fun to set a Christmas table.
Four place settings and two more shopping bags later, we lumbered into the elevator. There was a sprightly spring to Ma’s step as she smiled at me. “I think I finally bought you something you like” she said – and she had. The original Christmas Heritage pattern, I bring them out each December, recalling the day my mother insisted on gifting me with them for Christmas.
I thought about my mom and my Christmas dishes as I observed the women sitting across from me and made a mental note to bring the plates out when I got home. These dishes were one of the last Christmas gifts she ever gave me. She added to them before she passed on, and even spoke of them in delirium once when she was deathly ill with pneumonia, muttering something about giving the doctor a silver dollar to buy me more Christmas plates.
The doctor never got that silver dollar, but, Ma survived pneumonia – and I received a few more plates for Christmas that year. I’m glad I took the time to eat and rest while shopping, for, in so doing, I recalled my mother and that sweet day more than 2o years ago; a very dear memory, indeed, and a far greater gift of Christmas heritage.
Posted in Family and friends, Holidays | Tagged Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents, gifts, Jo March, Little Women, Pfaltzgraf Christmas Heritage plates, the meaning of Christmas | 27 Comments
I felt like I was right there with you and your mother that special day when you found the plates. I imagine seeing the smile on her face and the joy she felt by finding that “perfect” gift for Penny. Our mothers tried so very hard to always come up with just the right thing, didn’t they? Mine was the same way. I suppose all mothers are guilty of that. Those plates will always be a lovely sign of the love your mother had for you. I am drying my tears but so glad you told this memory.
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Our mothers most certainly did, Marilyn. It was such an innocent comment with no thought of ever having dishes that suddenly found themselves on my table, and still do. It was interesting how just observing another’s interaction reminded me of the shopping trip so long ago. I’m so pleased that this brought out glad tears and reminders of your own mom. Thank you, Marilyn.
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Tears rolling here, too, Penny. Reading “between the lines” here, I think I’ve just uncovered one more of those things we have in common. I’d be so thrilled to have another Christmas gift from Mom, whether it was something “I liked” or not. Thanks for a bittersweet gift.
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You are most welcome, Karen – and happy am I that we have yet another thing in common and that you can read “between the lines”. 🙂 One more gift. One more moment. . . Ah, it is hard sometimes, isn’t it? I find I appreciate Ma even more as I grow older. Thanks, Karen.
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What a lovely memory and post Penny. I can just imagine your mom’s pleasure at finding something she knew you loved and yours every time you set your Christmas table with those dishes. You made me think of my mom too and how she would be delighted to be able to give me something I would really appreciate. She often missed the mark too, but as a mom now, I understand her more than I did back then! 🙂
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Amazing, isn’t it Janet, how those “marks” become clearer as we grow a bit older? That inner pleasure of giving one’s child something and making them happy. My mom was better at it than I am, but, lucky I am to be able to learn by her example. I like knowing that this brought your own mom to mind as you read it. Thank you.
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What a beautiful memory of your mother, and the Christmas plates. I still have a few plates that belonged to my mother (who also had rheumatoid arthritis, by the way) and at certain times when I need extra comfort, I use them and feel that she is with me.
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Similarities seem to abound in everyone’s comments today. I am sorry for the suffering your mom had, Juliet. It is a painful and often debilitating disease. Our Katy also has it and it is a real challenge. Isn’t it comforting how a plate or a cup or some such item of those now gone, especially our mothers. can bring us comfort. I hope your holiday includes some time with the little ones. 🙂
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How sad to hear that your Kay has it too. A niece of mine does also, and it’s hard to see.
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It is so hard to see, Juliet – but, there have been some advancements in medications and treatments. Thank you.
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What a sweet memory of you and your mother. I do remember the party dress or at least the description of it, though. I remember feeling sorry for my parents who never seemed to get the good gifts without understanding that their joy was from giving to us. Sometimes you bless people more by being a gracious receiver of gifts than by finding just the right gift to give. If someone offers to pay for your coffee or let you in front of them in line, just let them. It will make their day as well as yours and then pass it on.
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Oh, Janet, you have really “hit the nail on the head”. Being a gracious receiver is as much a part of giving that is so often overlooked. Perhaps it was because I was a mom myself when Ma gave me the plates, but, it was a clear moment when I realized how much it meant to her to give them to me.
We had a fun experience not too long ago when we went to the Morton Arboretum. The driver of the car in front of us used their membership card to pay for us. We had our membership card, so, paid for the car behind us. The poor volunteer who was letting everyone in had quite a few “pay it forward” cars before someone actually benefitted from the first car.
That dress – then the gold gloves my aunt sent to go with them. My poor mom. The dress cost a fortune and was never, ever used. I kept it for years and years, feeling guilty over it. Every once-in-awhile, the “party dress” will come up. Even Dottie remembers it. She begged my mother not to buy it. 🙂
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What a really lovely memory to recall, Penny. How sweet to think back not just of the way the gift of the dishes pleased you, but of how much joy it brought her to give them to you. Remembering that she was still thinking about those dishes from the delirium of such a serious illness is really interesting! I know you had such a close and loving bond with your mom and as much as you must miss her, how important it is to have moments when you can really think about her with such a fondness. I think that after all it is what we all want–to be remembered. And you’ve certainly shared her with us which is lovely! I hope you got the dishes out and plan to use them. 🙂
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We used them last night, Debra. It was good for me to recall how I came to have them. Funny how these things happen while observing others.
My mom was desperately ill and in the hospital – and worried about my dishes. It was the oddest and, in a way, sweetest occurrence to witness as she was being packed in ice sheets (or whatever they are called) to bring down her fever. When she recovered, we talked about. She didn’t recall saying anything, but, had already gotten the dishes. Miss her so much.
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I know how many wonderful memories you hold of your mom and grandmother–and so many other loved ones. Those memories are so sweet, but I think those faces are missed even more this time of year! ox
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Memories are the best gifts of all, and your post has made me think with pleasure (and quite a few winces) of some of the hits and misses over the years. Sending Christmas wishes and thanks for the gifts you give us all year round!
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Thank you, Sallie. That is such a sweet greeting for me to receive. Ah, those “hits and misses” – they make us what we are today, don’t they? I wonder what my girls will recall . . .
Christmas wishes for you as well, Sallie. I live vicariously through your many photos and travels.
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An exquisite memory of your mother, Penny. She lives a little in those dishes, I hope. Not the same as having her, but maybe she’s a little closer when you use them. I definitely understand the attraction to dishes. I have five or six different sets, including a Christmas pattern.
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Thank you, Andra, and yes, indeed, she does. I had not thought about that day and how much more the dishes mean than just something festive to have Christmas dinner on in a very long while. I think that perhaps reading about your personal journey and project with memories helped spur this on. 🙂
Oh, dear heart, we have another thing in common besides peonies, don’t we? Dishes!
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My friend Cindy Duryea (you met her in NWMF) and I went through our inventories of dishes. She has ten or twelve sets. We thought it was a Southern thing!!
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Just wanted to let you know I looked up the Christmas Heritage series and think they are the most charming of all the Christmas plates. If you ever need to replace something, you probably know of Replacements, Ltd. I got many of my mother’s discontinued pieces of china there. And I too have several sets of dishes but still seem to use the same plain ones! My resolution is to use those dishes in 2015!
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Oh, Marilyn, do use all your dishes in 2015. The will feed your soul as much as the food your body. I do know of Replacements, Ltd. and will remember them should I need more plates, especially since I now know you were able to find your mother’s pieces.I might have known you would look them up. They are charming, I agree, and I use them through most of December. Most of what I have isn’t china (though I’m working on that angle 🙂 )
I did get those caramels made, thanks to daughter Jennifer coming over to help, and the fudge and cookies this afternoon. Now, it’s time for a long winter’s nap. Take care, Marilyn.
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That is such a touching post, Penny, and I know just what you mean about hitting and also missing the mark with gifts, and also how things can remind us so powerfully of those we love. I inherited many of the serving and other dishes my mother took such pleasure in collecting in retirement and think of her whenever I use them, even though it is over 30 years since she died. Enjoy using your Christmas plates, dear Penny.
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It is amazingly powerful how a cup, a dish, a spoon can remind us of a loved one, isn’t it? I can imagine you enjoying those treasured pieces, Perpetua, and using them. I am enjoying using the Christmas plates and remembering my mom in such a nice way. Thank you, Perpetua. I hope that you are continuing to heal.
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Gosh, Penny you write so well. Really. I felt so thankful that you have this blog. I haven’t seen any P. dishes in a long time. We used to have them but now we have Fiesta which I do so love. I liked the texture of the P.
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Thank you, Nan. I feel the same way about your Hill Farm letters. My everyday dishes are Fiesta, and I love them as well.
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