ATTIC TREASURES REVEAL MOTHER’S LEGACY

shared by Carol J. Rhodes
After both my parents were killed in a traffic accident, it was almost a year before I went through their attic. I didn’t choose to do it on such a cold and rainy Saturday, but the house had been sold and the new owners wanted ‘all of the junk’ removed.
Arriving early that morning, I poured a cup of coffee from a thermos and walked through the now-empty rooms, pausing at each window to look out at the rain. I stood for a long time at the window in my old room and fingered the lace curtains which were still hanging there, remembering how they used to flutter across my bed on cool spring mornings.
After finishing my coffee, I climbed the dark, narrow stairs to the attic and felt in the semi-darkness for the pull chain of the bare bulb overhead. Looking around, I was surprised to find only a few things-an old wicker bassinet, a rolled up piece of linoleum, two old suitcases, several cardboard boxes, a humpback trunk and a cedar chest with a heart carved on top. I tackled the boxes first. The largest one contained some Christmas ornaments and a few rolls of wrapping paper. The next box was full of old National Geographic magazines. Just like Mother, I thought, always saving these in case her kids at school needed pictures to go along with their reports. In another box were a dozen or so green-tinted canning jars and an odd assortment of lids with milk glass inserts. I could just hear Mother saying to Dad as he reluctantly moved them to the attic, “But Honey,
if there’s a bumper crop of peaches next summer, I’ll need these for my jelly.” Among the items in the large brown trunk was a
doll with one arm missing, a metal embroidery hoop, a shaving mug and brush with its bristles bent to one side, an old lace tablecloth and a small leather-covered book entitled, “Brilliant Thoughts for Men”. I wondered why in the world Mother had kept these things, then concluded they were possibly items being saved for her next garage sale. The rain had stopped but I could still hear droplets blowing from the trees onto the roof. Just a quick look in the most-likely empty cedar chest and I’ll be finished, I thought. A musty sweet scent greeted me when I opened the lid of the chest. There I found a faded envelope bearing my name written in Mother’s familiar hand. Inside a single sheet of parchment paper read: “Carol-I kept
these clothes because they were from special times in my life.”
On top was a tiny dress and cap of delicate organdy which had aged to a soft ivory color. Lace inserts trimmed the sleeves and skirt. Pinned to the collar was a note: “My christening dress, April 14, 1912”. Next I removed a soft lilac silk dress with a wide
Bertha collar and matching lace sewn in circles on the skirt-her college graduation dress. As I unfolded it, a photograph of Mother wearing the dress fell to the floor.
A black georgette crepe evening gown trimmed with ivory lace and rows of covered buttons was accompanied by a black card with these words written in white India ink: ‘Worn to a fraternity dance November 30, 1931, on first date with your father.”
At the very bottom of the chest, wrapped in tissue paper, lay a black velvet cloche with a small veil, a long, unadorned black velvet dress, a necklace of crystal and onyx beads, and a pair of black silk shoes. A small book tucked inside one of the shoes
contained a marriage certificate, a piece of white ribbon, two flowers pressed between waxed paper, and a worn note which read: “I wore this when your father and I were married on October 8, 1933. Black velvet may seem inappropriate now, but it was the latest wedding fashion that year.
After carefully replacing the garments one by one, I closed the lid and wiped away the tears which had rolled down my cheeks.
The old chest is in my own attic now. I have added my wedding dress and the red brocade one I wore on the first date with my husband. The cedar chest with the carved heart will be passed on to my children, who, I hope, will also discover its treasures one rainy Saturday morning. This story originally appeared in Country Home magazine’s February 1995 Issue under the title of” Clothed in the Fabric of Time.”