Field of Daisies: On Being Sentimental

June 26, 2004

On Being Sentimental

I stumbled across another of my favorite "ramblings" from a few years ago. Perhaps there is a kindred spirit out there somewhere that can relate...? :-)
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Okay. I confess. I am the world's most sentimental person. It has not yet become a crippling disorder, but it does present its share of problems.

For example, just last week I took my two children to the Cracker Barrel restaurant for lunch. It is one of my favorite places to eat, not only because the food is outstanding, but because it overflows with nostalgia. I love anything that reminds me of simpler times past; of Victorian ladies and simple country living.

nehi soda.gif But the reason I remember this particular day last week is this: As we waited to be seated, my daughter noticed the cola machine nearby filled with ice cold bottles of grape and orange soda. It was a replica of one of the old time Coke machines, so instantly I became reminiscent. I remembered going to my grandfather's old country store when I was a child. Every visit guaranteed an icy cold Grape Nehi on the house. It's a little thing, but in our world of recyclable aluminum cans and plastic bottles, it doesn't take much to make me misty.

Anyway, my daughter Jenna wanted a grape soda so I grabbed one for her. As we were seated for lunch, I opened the bottle and watched intently as my five year old took her first swig of grape soda from a chilled bottle. From the expression on her face, you would've thought she had just learned to ride a bike without training wheels!

Instantly I thought of a way to remember this precious moment. I would keep the bottle cap. The significance of which is two-fold: first (and obviously) it is a keepsake representing my daughter's first grape soda from a bottle. Second, and not so obvious to those who don't know Jenna, it is a reminder of her long-living passion for the color purple.

The problem this extreme sentimentality creates is this: what does one do with all those reminders? Those keepsakes of sweet moments that only come once? My husband and children and I live in a nice home with what most would consider plenty of square footage. But to the truly sentimental, no square footage is enough! I have boxes and boxes of mementos and keepsakes. In the closets. In the garage. In the attic.

I have spent a considerable amount of time over the years trying to discover what it is that makes me so sentimental. Perhaps it goes back to the fact that I have very little to remind me of my own childhood. My family never 'went without' when I was growing up--not without the important things anyway. Things like food, shelter, clothing, etc. But when it came to toys and games and material possessions, we never had very much. And I suppose, because I was the youngest of four children, my mother was probably much too busy to expend her energy collecting memorabilia and locating a place in our very small home to store it.

I do have a few priceless treasures from my childhood though. A couple of dolls and a child-size apron my grandmother made me; a sock monkey made from a pair of my grandfather�s socks; a scrapbook of art projects from the 4th grade; my flutaphone and my first sewing project: a triangular head-scarf made of pink gingham. There's also a stuffed dog made out of quilt squares that my mother made me for Christmas one year and a really ugly pink stuffed cat with a hard plastic head. Priceless!

Oh, I've got a few more items, but you get the picture.

I suppose that's why I love to go antiquing so much. I love seeing things that remind me of my childhood. One time I spent five dollars for a cigar box that was just like one my grandfather had given me when I was a child. It was just an old box, but the smell of cigars always reminds me of his gentleness and his quiet way. I don't have many memories of Grandpa--he died when I was only nine--but the memories I do have are good ones, and that cigar box always makes me nine again. I don't know what happened to the original... I suppose it got thrown out with other "junk" I outgrew. I just wish I had known then how much I would miss that silly old box.�

For my children, they will have more memorabilia than they will ever know what to do with. But hopefully, along with every crayon colored picture and every note scribbled with backward letters they will be reminded of happy moments from their childhood.

To some I may be a pack rat, but I prefer to call myself hopelessly sentimental--and proud of it! If they ever come up with a 12-step program for those who are obsessively sentimental, don't sign me up. I'm content just the way I am.

Click here for an interesting timeline of the history of soda pop.

Posted by at June 26, 2004 02:22 PM