As a child I would sneak into my parents bedroom and look inside my Mom’s Hope Chest. It was something that intrigued me. It wasn’t so much the chest itself but the story behind it.
My Mom would tell the story about how her parents gave it to her on her 16th birthday. How the purpose of the hope chest was to fill it with items you would some day use in your future home.
Now that part didn’t thrill me any. I was 6 what did I know of my future home with children and a husband.
As I would sit there running my hand along the grooves and edges I would day dream of the day I would leave California.
You see even at that young of age I couldn’t wait to get out of that state. I was born there but I have hated California for as long as I can remember. All I could dream of was leaving that state.
When I looked at that hope chest I would think of that time.
As a child I traveled a lot with my Grandparents. The same people that gave that hope chest to my Mom. By the time I was 9 I had seen almost all of the United States. Every place that we traveled I like it better then the one I was from.
However the one place I loved the most was Texas. It was the place I wanted to be forever.
I would sit there and day dream about that place.
When I was 17 my Great Aunt Dorthy passed away. Next to my Gramma this lady was the second most awesome lady around. I didn’t get to spend enough time with her but she was awesome.
The day of her funeral I was told I needed to look through her hope chest and find the items I wanted.
I sat there on the floor of her bedroom crying as I looked through picking out the different items.
My Aunt had a gift and she had made so many wonderful quilted items. I had already picked out the quilt and now it was time for the other items.
I remember finding myself running my fingers along the edges of that hope chest wishing so much I knew the story of when she had received it. Was it anything like the story my Mom had about hers?
This Lane Hope Chest was so different then my Mom’s Lane. Which meant it had a different story as well.
The days and months past and before long it was Christmas. My Father’s parents came by the house which I found strange. These people didn’t visit. I decided the best thing to do was to hide in my bedroom on the phone. No need to go out there. Yes, they were my Grandparents but we aren’t close at all. (Oh just wait for that blog. It will send you screaming)
Before long though my Father I was calling me out into the front room.
Unwillingly I hung up the phone and headed out.
As I walked out I noticed something covered sitting in the middle of the front room. I wondered what it was but instead stood there waiting to find out why it was I was needed.
I remember my parents and grandparents just looking at me.
Out of all these people my Mom was the only one that I really connected with. I often wondered how it was she got hooked up with them. Over the years I have often wondered what her life could of been like if she hadn’t married my Father. But once again that’s another blog for another day.
Before long my Father stood up and took the sheet off the item in the middle of the front room.
IT WAS MY GREAT AUNTS LANE HOPE CHEST AND IT WAS MINE!!!!!!!
IT WAS MINE!!!!!
I wanted to jump up and down and scream I was so happy. Instead I went around the room and hugged everyone and said thank you.
In my family this was the correct way to act.
I then turned around and went back into my room. Once in my room I jumped up and down and showed my excitement.
Over the years I have treated that item like it’s precious gold. Nothing bad was going to happen to it.
I now sit there and rub my hands over it’s smooth edges and think about my Aunt and my life. I think about the story it had before I had it and the story it has now that I have it.
Some day my oldest daughter will get it and I hope she feels about it the same way that I do.