Eileen Goudge

The Little Red Strainer

As Memorial Day approaches, I’m reminded of my parents. It’s been three years since my Mom passed away. Having just visited my brother and sisters in California, it was brought back to me as we reminisced about old times. It was also nice to see some of my parents’ things here and there in the homes of my brother and sisters. Since I live far away, and the apartment I share with my husband is relatively small, I took nothing when my mom’s belongings were divvied up, except for one thing: her little red strainer. Its monetary value is negligible—it wouldn’t fetch more than fifty cents at a garage sale. It’s a little beat up and the enamel is chipped. But to me the value is immeasurable. Every morning when I get up out of bed and see it sitting on my kitchen counter, it greets me like a smile. I see my mom when I’m using it to rinse berries, reminded of the cornucopia of fresh fruit she always kept in the house. When I’m straining pasta I think of the lasagna she would make every other Sunday, enough to feed the army that was her family (including cousins, friends of ours, and any of the neighborhood children who happened to be around). And on Sunday mornings, when I bake muffins, I sometimes use the strainer in lieu of a bread basket, thinking of all the yummy baked goods that came out of my mom’s kitchen.

I also think about the ways in which possessions, especially after the death of a parent, can divide a family. I’ve heard countless stories through the years about siblings fighting over who gets what – usually stuff that’s not worth much except to them—and of lifelong feuds that develop as a result. Years ago, a friend told me a story about a friend of hers whose sister took her to court, claiming their mom’s Tupperware collection, which she claimed her sister had “stolen,” rightfully belonged to her. Me? I look at my mom’s little red strainer, and those of my mom’s and dad’s possessions that ended up in my siblings’ homes, and feel joyful that I carried away the most important thing: the continuing love and support of my family.

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I feel the very same...

Comment from: Susan (Guest)

I feel the very same way. The three of us have never argued over who got what when my father died last year. And for those things we had difficulty making a decision about, not because we had an argument, but because they had too many memories tied up in them, we got a storage unit and put them all there to filter through one year after his death. I didn't take many of Dad's things, but I took the few things that reminded me of hearth and home growing up. The things of more 'worth' monetarily I let go. :-) Great blog my dear.

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