Memory Collecting--A Good Thing

If you are an Ebay surfer like me and have interest in all kinds of treasures, you are familiar with the term, "MIB"--mint in the box.  Everyone who collects knows that mint in the box products are in perfect condition, have not been used, and generally are of more value to buyers. 

What puzzles me most is that there are any vintage toys that are MIB.  Toys were made to be PLAYED with--by kids!  Don't get me wrong, I have a few Holiday Barbies in the closet collecting dust.  They were bought to fill the void left from a Barbie-less childhood.  I had a fake Barbie, though.  She was purchased with gold stamps, so I am forever scarred.  Actually, I am thankful that I didn't get everything I ever wanted in life.  I believe I am a far better person because of it.

Well, I can safely say that no MIB toys survived my childhood.  My mother kept some of my little "treasures" safely tucked away in the cedar chest.  There were books that I personally illustrated, although my pictures didn't exactly go along with the storyline.  And then there was Susie..no clothes but one shoe, arms out of socket, her once beautiful red hair--coiffed with round-tipped scissors.  Her  cries for "Mama" silenced decades ago by one too many plunges in  the bath.

Unfortunately, my brothers' toys didn't survive unscathed by their little sister, either.  One three-legged Fort Apache plastic horse was proudly displayed on a shelf for years.  Epiphany..is this why I still chew every pen cap I come in contact with?  The taste and texture is very similar, don't you agree?

I've been going through drawers lately in attempts to purge years of collected clutter.  Yesterday I pulled out another remnant of my childhood..toy cooking utensils, and mismatched plates and cups.  As with my other toys, these are well worn, dented, missing handles, rusty with much of their decorative paint missing from digging in dirt and sand.  I remember the little cakes Mama and I cooked in the tiny cake pans and the tea parties we had with the little dishes. 

Why did my mother keep all of those pitiful toys?  It certainly wasn't because of any assumed intrinsic value.  She knew well that I was rough on toys.  You will never see a one of them on the Antiques Road Show.  No, Mama was a memory collector. 

Even before we received the dreaded diagnosis of Alzheimer's, I think Mama knew her memory was fading fast.  She began giving away some of her prized possessions.  But mostly she wanted to share the history of the objects...like the potato salad bowl was the first gift given to her by my grandparents when she and Daddy married.  The hand-painted salad bowl was the first Christmas gift she received from my brother and sister-in-law when they married.  It's now returned to its rightful owners.  The tiny cast iron pot that my Daddy's grandmother played with when she was a child would have been a mystery if the memory had not been shared. 

Some clutter at my house will go, but much of it will stay.  I come from a long line of memory collectors...and that's a good thing. 

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney