Hard to move forward when the past clings

by Pat Laster (author, A Journey of Choice)

How ‘bout them Hogs? I typed that opening before the Sugar Bowl game. Back to the keyboard during halftime with the Hogs ‘way behind. How ‘bout them Hogs? I ask again. We’ll see, won’t we?
During the first half, I went through my sewing sack and set aside ribbons, shoe strings, loose buttons, sewing AND machine needles, and various other items I would never use. Those things will go to Goodwill or the Habitat Restore.
I kept three pair of tiny scissors, a seam ripper that I’ll never use, 4 thimbles—one a small beat-up metal one that I’ll “give” a fictional history, and another advertising Sweet Rose Flour. Anyone with information about that company or logo, I would love to hear from you (patlaster@up-link.net.)
After that, I used navy thread for hemming three pairs of fleece pants, and rose thread for a pair of red ones. Not a bad accomplishment for one evening. I felt almost old timey––doing handwork, rocking in front of the fire and listening to my late Daddy’s radio.
How ‘bout them Hogs? They weren’t up to snuff; too little too late; all tuckered out; something.Ohio and Terrelle Pryor, you know. But the Razorback Nation's gotta put it behind us and move forward, as surely many losing coaches told their players.
I’m having trouble moving ahead. I used all the plastic tubs on the place for Christmas paraphernalia and still needed more. I tried to move ahead to the next season by stripping the Christmas table linens (oops! it was flannel-backed plastic!). That went fine, but the cloth I pulled down to replace it was too large for the table.
I refolded it and opened the largest buffet drawer where other large cloths lay. Under those three cloths were old boxes, gee-gaws, and loose pictures. I could do nothing but lay the cloths on the table and go through the boxes. Boxes full of the past. My maternal grandmother’s past, those things that Mom inherited that became mine. One box contained quilt blocks, another––lined with a cloth that I did not take out and look at––held small perfume vials, porcelain figurines, keepsakes from someone to someone else.
I poked through every box, every card, every clipping. I laid out those things collegian grandson Billy needed to see––clippings of mine and his Papa’s wedding, my engagement picture––recital programs, graduation invitations and church bulletins. Even an invitation to one of his birthday parties.
I called my aunt, the only living daughter of Grandma Severn and she said she’d done the same thing not long ago, and no, she didn’t want what I had. We laughed and wondered if any of our children or grandchildren would cherish them as they matured into the family lore and traditions. We both hope and trust so.
My grandmother came from Kansas and many of her relatives still lived (and live) there. One yellowed clipping dated May 13, 1954 was from The Anderson Countian. On page eleven, Welda news continued (“Additional Welda”) for fifty-two and a half column inches!!
I know folks love to read about the happenings in their area and to look for their names, but this clipping seemed a bit much. I’d like to see an issue of that paper today if it still exists. [Checking online shows that yes, it still exists and so do two other papers! Who said newspapers were vanishing?]
Here are some excerpts: “The senior class and their sponsors...returned from their sneak trip...Among points of interest visited were Rockaway Beach, Lake of the Ozarks, Bridal Cave and Bagnall Dam.”
The practice of listing every name mentioned as “Mr. and Mrs. So-and-So” took up many column inches. Other items included people who were dinner guests of their parents, those who were “Sunday evening visitors.” A little boy from Colorado “spent Saturday night with his cousin...”And “Little Norma Jean Owens returned home with her grandparents for a visit.”
Seven-and-a-half inches were given to a report of the Methodist Women’s Society of Christian Service (now UMW).
Such detailed descriptions! My final example (and from only the second of six columns) involved the name of my grandmother’s sister Cora’s folks, to wit: “A pot luck supper was held at the Lowell Brecheisen home...in honor of Mr. Louis Brecheisen who will be inducted into the army Friday.”
Like “them Hogs,” I gotta put the past behind me and move forward into whatever the new year holds.
c 2011 lovepat press