Childhood memories
When I was a kid, my family was living in a house that my grandparents and my great-grandparents had built in the 1950’s. My grandparents had died, but my great-grandmother was still alive and living on the 2nd floor (I already wrote about her some time ago).
Whenever my parents took out on a Saturday night, I was told to go upstairs not to be alone in our place, and it was so totally different with Omama, as we called her. She had a big eat-in kitchen with a sink and a sofa and a large old cupboard. There was a table and some chairs and a coal-burning stove. She had a bathroom and a bedroom, and, there was another room that stored some belongings of my deceased Granny. In the bedroom, there was a huge wardrobe made from black wood, and a huge double bed made of the same material, as well as a cabinet with a threepart mirror. In the bedside locker, she stored some pocket watches that had belonged to my great-grandfather (whom I never got to know). Along with the chains that belonged to them. I took a fancy in the pocket watches! There was one made of silver, and a golden plated one. They had a lid to cover the glass, and one of them had even a lid you could lift, to see the watch work. What a sight, to see the tiny sprockets turn, and the balance spring twist and turn. There were also cuff links in the drawer, pretty little things.
To be able to have a look at those watches compensated for the fact that I had to be in bed by 20.00, just before Omama went to bed herself, untying her thin white hair from the bun she wore in the daytime. And going to sleep and snore on her side of the bed.
Unfortunately, when Omama died in her 90’s, all of those precious belongings went to her remaining daughter, my grandaunt. I saw nothing of that ever again.
But each time I go to a flea market and see such wonderful watches, I have to think of my great-grandfather’s watches, and it even let me to buy my own pocket watch some months ago. It’s a modern form, but there’s a chain attached to it.
Sadly, it is not half as pretty as the old ones, so I will have to go on searching at the flea markets…
Whenever my parents took out on a Saturday night, I was told to go upstairs not to be alone in our place, and it was so totally different with Omama, as we called her. She had a big eat-in kitchen with a sink and a sofa and a large old cupboard. There was a table and some chairs and a coal-burning stove. She had a bathroom and a bedroom, and, there was another room that stored some belongings of my deceased Granny. In the bedroom, there was a huge wardrobe made from black wood, and a huge double bed made of the same material, as well as a cabinet with a threepart mirror. In the bedside locker, she stored some pocket watches that had belonged to my great-grandfather (whom I never got to know). Along with the chains that belonged to them. I took a fancy in the pocket watches! There was one made of silver, and a golden plated one. They had a lid to cover the glass, and one of them had even a lid you could lift, to see the watch work. What a sight, to see the tiny sprockets turn, and the balance spring twist and turn. There were also cuff links in the drawer, pretty little things.
To be able to have a look at those watches compensated for the fact that I had to be in bed by 20.00, just before Omama went to bed herself, untying her thin white hair from the bun she wore in the daytime. And going to sleep and snore on her side of the bed.
Unfortunately, when Omama died in her 90’s, all of those precious belongings went to her remaining daughter, my grandaunt. I saw nothing of that ever again.
But each time I go to a flea market and see such wonderful watches, I have to think of my great-grandfather’s watches, and it even let me to buy my own pocket watch some months ago. It’s a modern form, but there’s a chain attached to it.
Sadly, it is not half as pretty as the old ones, so I will have to go on searching at the flea markets…
Labels: Childhood memories
posted by Claudia at 09:01
1 Comments:
You're no longer in contact with your great aunt? What a shame. That happened in my family too. My grandmother on my father's side favored one son, and when she died, I think he just sold everything or something. Who knows where it went. I loved a ginger jar she had that was filled with rose petals.
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