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The Little Black Suitcase

The other night our phone rang. On the caller ID I saw my mothers number. When I answered she said "Hello....are you done with supper?" I always love talking with mom, but that night was different. It was special. After we hung up I had a "free feeling." It was like she had gently opened a door deep in my heart that has been closed for all my life---really. It has been closed not (and I stress not) because of the doing of anyone else. It has been closed because of my doing. Three years ago, one door was opened and I discovered a very true treasure behind that door that belonged to me. That first door was opened three years ago, but not until last night was I able to open the second door, and feel free to share my story.

There has been three beautiful people who have shared life with me....who have played a huge part in who I really am. I have written about two of those gentle, quiet, people....my mother and dad. But I have never wrote about the third beautiful, gentle woman.....my birth mother. So now I want to write my heart feelings about all three of these special people I hold dear to my heart.....even more so as I grow older. I want you to know them.

In my basement, in its special place, sets a little black suitcase, there on the shelf. Sixty three years ago someone gently folded a winter wedding dress and placed it there in that old suitcase. Beside it they placed a single golden wedding band, a pair of white pillow cases with tatting around the edges. There is a pair of hair combs, some pictures, letters, an autograph book, a little white baby gown with tatting around the collar, and a tiny baby bracelet made of pink.

On top they placed a 5 x 7 picture of a brown haired young woman. Her eyes were dark and gentle, and on her lips she wore a kind, soft smile. Someone did this all for me. They did it so someday I would know this beautiful mother who carried me close to her heart for nine months. Who put my well being above her own. That gentle mother who gave me life but lost her own. I will never know who all those special "someones" were, but last night I learned that one of them was my mother. That's all that matters to me. I could hear the sympathy in her voice when she said to me "I wish you would have known your mother."

That little suitcase was gently closed and placed up stairs in our old farm house....waiting for the right day when it would be given to me. When I was a little girl, I didn't realize that emotions were also put inside that suitcase. Now I know that many tears are in there, many quiet prayers for strength, many memories. Oh how I wish that I could hold my dear old dad and let him sob there on my shoulder.....but I can not so I just remember that in heaven all that heaviness is gone from his dear heart.

Have you ever had a dear treasure right at your fingertips and not known it? Have you ever had a dear family who waits patiently for you to come back to them? Have you ever felt a gentle hug, or heard words of understanding, or saw tears in an uncle's eyes as he talks with you? Have you ever been told those words "We have always loved you and always will?" And you know that they aren't just words. They are genuine and from the heart. Have you ever felt a "kindred spirit" with someone?

This is what happened to me three years ago when Stan took me back to my mother's family reunion after being away for at least 17 years. I'm so ashamed that it took me so long. I'm not only ashamed, but I missed so much. Just this last evening I was looking through my facebook and there I saw a picture of my mother's sisters and brothers....my aunts and uncles. When I looked at them...all lined up there....I felt a tug at my heart. They belonged to me.

That reunion three years ago was very special. It made my mother come alive. We all climbed into cars and took a trip "back in time."  We saw where my mother lived after she moved away from home. We saw where she worked and where she went to meeting (church). We drove by grandpa and grandma's place and visited their graves. We visited Lake Hicks where my mother and dad lived for a time. I heard stories of my mother's growing up days, her wit, her manners, her mothering care. But best of all, we just sat there in Aunt Bernie and Uncle Dick's house and talked, and laughed, and our hearts bonded.

I saw where I got a lot of my emotions. It is quite a thing really, how happy it makes a young lady feel to know she is a lot like her mother. I really can't explain it. Deep in my heart I have always had this feeling I can't really put words to. It's an overjoyed heart felt love for nature...any of God's great creation. It's as if I'm at home out there under the beautiful open sky. Things like the sunrise, sunset, rainbows, quietness, bare trees and moon beams make my heart soar. I have ofen wondered "Where did that come from?" They tell me...my mother. I wonder if she talked softly to me as she worked around the house, or sang to me while she played in the flower beds? Maybe so. In her old Bible I found this bookmark. On it were these words: "I think the song that's sweetest..Is the one that's never sung....that lies at the heart of the singer...too grand for mortal tongue." I now have it in my Bible. I believe every word.

Soon after that reunion, in the following spring, another "reunion" took place. It was much smaller but it made my heart so happy.

Uncle Dick and Aunt Bernie made a special stop at our house. They wanted to see mom!! So up we drove for a days visit. It touched my heart so deeply when we sat around the old kitchen table there together and mom wanted everything to be just right. She was so kind and sweet....serving us all. Uncle Dick and Aunt Bernie just loved her. It made me so happy watching them visiting there together. My sister, my brother and wife, and aunt and uncle got in on it also. Of course there were pictures to be taken. Pictures that captured smiling faces, sparkling eyes, and arms around each other and love written all over.

I am truly thankful for that mother who sixty three years ago bent over that old black suitcase and placed those dear treasurers away for a little girl, that mother who so gently placed the old Bible and hymnbook away so the broken heart of her new husband, my father, could start to mend.

I am so thankful that now I can go down our basement steps, open that little suitcase, and picture in my mind's eye a compassionate, kind, gentle small woman...who was my mother. I can read letters written by grandma and grandpa. Listen as grandpa pours out his deep feelings on paper. When he writes "The little baby is so cute...she opened her blue eyes and I fell in love."

But most of all...I can sit there, and for just a little while, I can remember how so many years ago three beautiful people came together. And in their special way, they each played a very important part in a little girl's life. For just a little while our hearts beat together.... my father, my mothers and mine....and we can become as one blended together there in that quiet little room.

Then I gently close the lid of the old black suitcase, place it back upon its shelf, climb the stairs and whisper "I'm so glad I was born me."

I can know that soon my phone will ring and my mother will say "Hello....are you done with supper?" I know I can turn on my computer and there in front of me I can read little messages, or see pictures, or baby announcements, or weddings or graduations. They are all from my wonderful sisters, brother, aunts, uncles and many, many cousins.

Yes....I was a special little girl....who many years ago was born into a world filled with love.

Comments

  1. Helen, we are so happy that you have found solace in an otherwise heartbreaking experience. Peace is priceless!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Helen, I had never known this part of your story, and I couldn't restrain my tears as you shared the depth of your heart with us. I applaud your brave, free spirit!

    ReplyDelete

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