Anytime I take a trip over to my mum and dad's house, I'm bound to find something old from my childhood that they've hung onto over the years. Old photographs, old artwork, and even old toys. Strewn all over their apartment are little bits of pottery that my sisters and I have made over the years, including my favorite, the two soap dishes that Naem made. Way back in Elementary school, she made my mum and dad a gift - their own soap dishes - but she joined them together so that they could never get a divorce. So sweet.
And sometimes, embarrassing. On my parents' walls hang a few of my old drawings from high school, framed. I look at them and think how awful they are, but my mum looks at them and thinks they are beautiful. And she really means it. Whenever I tell her she can take them down because they look bad, she strongly defends her choice to keep them up.
So, two weekends ago, she dug out this old toy. It's a wooden bear that my parents bought at Macanda Junction in Southern Illinois. It hangs on two pieces of string and to play with it, you tug on each string alternately to shimmy the bear up to the top. It was broken - the string was worn out and in bits - so she carefully strung it up again with some wool. Buddy and Ella both helped and soon it was back up and functional again.
Though it was frustrating at first to learn how to make the bear shimmy up the string, Buddy soon go the hang of it. Ella needed someone to help guide her hands.
And then I remembered what fun we had with it when I was little.
And I was glad my mum had saved it. And repaired it. To share something from my childhood with my children. It had survived their many moves from house to apartment. From country to country. I hope I can do the same to keep some of my heirlooms and my children's to hand onto our future generation.