They say a picture is worth a thousand words. This one deserves more.
My Mom is in the process of asking us to write down the things that we know we want, and on that subject, we started talking about the objects from my Grandparents. Since my sister and I are the only grandchildren our maternal grandparents had, most of their material items of note should filter down this way. I say should, because they have a habit of mysteriously disappearing.
During their lifetime, my Grandparents lived in Africa. This was way back in the day, when ivory was a popular commodity and no one thought about the elephants. A lot of the stuff from Africa was more associated with my Grandfather, and I was his favourite grandchild, so much of that stuff really resonates with me and is really suited in my house, as opposed to my sister’s, who easily gets a lot of my grandmother’s antiques, without question. We trade for things that the other wants, or try to - that’s the goal.
Anyhow, my Mom asked me about the ivory carved tusks that my grandparents brought back from their trip to (Egypt) Africa. Did I want them?
It makes me ill just knowing that we have these in our family. I told her I can’t, in good conscience, keep them, or look upon them. I can’t even begin to think of selling them. I know that if she gave them to me, I’d either bury them or find a way to burn them.
The only thing I do want? A brass Q’uran table. My uncle has it now and it’s been years since I saw it, but it was my first introduction to the holy book and, as it was introduced by a man that did not question his faith in Christianity, but told me how other people believed in other religions and he was completely open about that, at a time when most of his generation would have been closed off, it really makes me appreciate him and hope that he would understand my desire to convert to Reform Judaism. He, quite possibly, would be the only one in this family to do so, if he had lived. (I’m afraid of telling my father, who is mostly atheist, because of how he remarks about the all omniscient God who cares about the petty problems of everyone. I’m afraid of telling my mother, because even telling her that I like Catholicism was a huge deal to her Baptist upbringing.)
(via ladyfabulous)
9:03 PM | 22,337 notes | http://tmblr.co/ZynHKxlOJaQR
