Wearing our history

Anna Grace and I love to make old things new.  I don't know if I've taught her this or if she just comes by it naturally, but when we happen upon a  let's-do-something-just-you-and me occasion, you can bet we're either going to Starbucks for a kids hot chocolate, a skinny cinnamon dolce latte, and a hearty amount of girl talk or we are scouring Goodwill for something old to make new again.  Both of us become giddy at the thought. 

Today, we both wore our grandmother's dresses to church.  I'll have to spend some more time photographing the detail of this heavy little black velvet dress with its wide sash and full skirt.  It's one of Anna Grace's favorite dresses of all time and I just love to see her walk the halls of our church in it and the boiled wood overcoat with the small bow in the back that was also my mom's.  In a quick glance, I can almost see a little Camille.

The golden suit I wore was my Gran's- my mom's mom.  When I put my arms through it this morning, I could almost smell her house again. I wonder if she ever thought her granddaughter would be wearing it while carrying her seventh great-grandchild on her hip.  Probably not. 

These pieces of our history won't last forever.  The buttons will break and the hems won't hold forever- but there is just something extraordinary about being able to walk around in something old made new. And not just any something, but your grandmother's something.  It's a reminder of the gift of family and the very precious gift of mother-daughter-mother-daughter relationships that both precede and follow you. 

Lord willing, I hope to have a little stash for my granddaughter to rummage through.  

And Lord willing, maybe she'll sport it to church carrying around my seventh great-grandchild on her hip.