Cherished things we will never use

One of the drawers in my kitchen is so full that I cannot get another dish towel in it. I pushed and pushed but nothing more would fit if the drawer was closed. Reluctantly I took everything out to see what could be discarded or stored elsewhere. I discovered that what I actually use was only a small part of what was clogging up the drawer.

I found two of my mother's aprons. They were ones she had actually made. One was fancy, to wear when she was serving refreshments at club meetings. The other was for everyday at home. The ties on it came low on her body and we used to tell her she should let the bib blouse a little more so that the ties that fastened the apron on snugly to be practical would hit her at the waist. But she knew that loose material was a danger when cooking or doing other housework. I was too young to see all the uses she had for that apron when we were living full time on the farm. We had chickens then and she told me that she would sometimes gather the eggs in the bottom half of her apron. That was before my time, but I vividly remember her wiping her hands hurriedly on the apron when the doorbell rang in our house in Washington, D.C. If she knew who might be coming she would then take the apron off and be ready to receive company in a nice dress. When she was cooking supper for our big family she wore the apron, but would take it off and hang it in the kitchen before she came in the dining room to sit down and eat with us. That was a signal that she was through for the day. It was up to us girls to clear the table and wash the dishes.

OK, the aprons brought back many memories. What shall I do with them since I will never wear either of them? That's what jeans are for. A quick hand wipe on the side of the jean's leg will dry hands quickly and leave little trace of my action. I folded the two aprons and placed them in a separate pile. Then I turned my attention to other things that had been in the drawer. I found seasonal towels designed to hang near the sink or stove for more quick hand wipes. Two were for Thanksgiving and four had the Christmas theme. One was patriotic and two were for Valentine's Day or maybe an anniversary. They were covered with hearts. I couldn't possibly use all of them in any given year. But I could remember family members who had made some of them. Others were gifts from my club's secret sister. I wasn't really sure which ones were those special gifts. So I folded these together and added to the separate pile.

Obviously the contents of the drawer were getting smaller. I found the dishrags that I had bought recently. I didn't realize that the package held two dozen, but if I put one in the laundry basket every day I wouldn't need another for two weeks. But I had the pretty ones my mother crocheted for me. They were white with a rosy red border. I had used then for pads on the table or as doilies, but my table's surface doesn't need protection. It is some durable material that can tolerate heat as well as the kitchen cabinets do. I also don't use doilies much anymore, and these are not the right size for the places I do use them. The separate pile grew some more.

By now the drawer was only sparsely filled. I had plenty of room to put in the new items I received for Christmas. But what do I do with that pile? There is nothing in there that doesn't carry some cherished memory or a reminder of a friend.

The things that my mother made could be passed along to my daughters and daughters-in-law. Some of the gifts could be re-gifted, but I don't like to do that, especially if I am not sure which pretty thing came from which friend. It would be really embarrassing to give a secret sister gift to a friend who had actually made it to give to me a year or so ago.

I think I have decided what I'll do. I will get a nice strong box and pack these things away with the label "Cherished things I will never use." I will label each item as much as I can and then someone who takes care of our stuff later on can decide what to do with them.

If you go to a sale in 10 years or so and find some nice white dish rags with a rosy red border, think of my mother and me.