A gift

In theory I'm opposed to becoming attached to an object. But in practice, it's not easy to separate the love I feel for people from the objects that represent them to me. I am a borderline packrat married to an extreme minimalist, though we rarely have a hard time respecting the others' point of view.

While helping my grandmother clean out her old laundry room (which is really the size of a very small house), I acquired something new to hold on to. This beautiful old colander belonged to my Nonnie's mother, my maternal great-grandmother Maude, also known as Mama Bays.
When I hold it, I feel solid. The women who have held this colander in their hands have shaped my life in ways both seen and unseen. The stories of Mama Bays are mostly tales from the kitchen. I can imagine her rinsing her blueberries to make her famous blueberry cream cheese pie. My own sweet grandmother, her youngest daughter, who prayed for me and loved me enough to change the course of my life, has used it in her own kitchen. And now I will use it in mine.