You know when you have an object in your house for such a long time that you don't even see it anymore? At the home I grew up in, there are a LOT of objects like that. They don't even hold an emotional pull anymore, they blend so well into the background now they're practically camouflaged.
One such item is this vase my mother had. She bought it the year I was born, or thereabouts, so it's not exactly new. It has a few badly glued together sections where us kids knocked it over and broke it. It's still standing, scarred and defiant. I like those old things now. For ages I would nag them to clear out the old crap and stop living in the past. I changed my mind. Not long ago I was over the house and saw this thing in the corner, on the floor, almost hiding behind a table. I don't know why but I suddenly felt sorry for it and decided a rescue mission was in order.
I just said "Can I have this?" and she said sure. Mind you, I had to carry back not just the vase but also...
3 packages of Tiramisu
5 cans of tuna
3 mangos
a box of crackers
a tupperware of homemade beans
... because I'm 60 years old and need my mommy to buy me tuna fish. I suppose we'll always be our parents' child. So weighed down like a packhorse, I took it home. For the first time since I started Daisy's Needlepoint Kits, I had a piece of the past that influenced and inspired my designs. It's a real mid-century classic. Odd colors that almost work against each other. Blobs of color popping out at you for no reason. Green and orange. Green. And Orange.
Now 60 years later, I love it. We haven't quite found the right place in the apartment for it but we're working on it. The important thing is that it has been passed down and it makes me happy.