Friday, August 5, 2016

Being Sentimental

I've been catching up with all kinds of things since last week; since I bought a retro kitchen table and sold my late-Grandmother's art deco one within 48 hours of each other. It was weird. I found a Chiswell Dining table with matching chairs and got Dad to help me purchase it and sold a table and chairs I've known all my life to a lady in Beenleigh who wanted to do it up as her kitchen table. 

She loved it just as it was. I did say in the advert that it needed work on the chairs and the table was in good condition - and when she pulled the car into the car park next to my place she squealed with delight, saying it was gorgeous, it was perfect and just what she needed. She paid me and then put it into her SUV and took it home. 
Dad, Mum and I went in our own directions as we had places to be last Saturday. I had an Author's Day at InHouse Publishing to attend and then head off to my folks' house to finish up polishing the chairs and painting a stain on the veneer on the table before I took two of the chairs home. 

But it was when I arrived home, when I was confronted with that space where the old table used to be that I realised I what I had done. I had gotten rid of something I've known all my life. I've sold off a piece of my Grandmother's furniture I have only ever seen in her house - in her kitchen - and now I'll never, ever see it again; and this thought crushed me. I burst into tears and wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I phoned Mum and talked to her; and she told me that Grandma would have understood completely; she would have approved of the new, retro Chiswell table I've bought, that she wouldn't have minded me selling the old one at all. I know I sound like a sentimentalist about this, but when you've grown up with something like this in your life, and it's been in your memory for as far back as you can remember, it's hard to let it go. 

I'm one of those people who find it very hard to let go of things in life which hold a great memory for me. Now, that old kitchen table reminded me of all the meals that Grandma cooked at Tarragindi for us - all the roast lunches, all the times I dropped in to see her on Thursdays after Grandpa had passed away and I brought Red Rooster with me (we would watch 'Days of Our Lives' on the television in the kitchen and she'd tell me who was horrible and who was nice during the show). She always had a vase of plastic yellows flowers in the middle of that table on a green and white doiley she had made, and was always up for a chat. And after a huge lunch, she'd lean down, open up a cupboard and pull out a few Tupperware containers of slices and a cake and feed us more! Man, my Grandmother would cook enough food for the Army, the Air Force and the Navy... then there'd still be leftovers for the family! 

This is why I became so distraught over selling the table after it was gone. So many memories had been made around that table. So many breakfasts with my brother and Grandma and Grandpa on school holidays... lunches, morning tea and afternoon tea as well. Then, at dinner time when I didn't want to eat my brussel sprouts, Grandpa would leave the kitchen and Grandma would scoop up my and Gabe's servings and eat them for us, and then give us our desserts, promising us that she'd 'never tell Grandpa...' and she give a wink and a little smile. I still hate brussel sprouts and wonder if anyone would still scoff them down for me if I didn't want to eat them at dinner. Fortunately, now I'm grown up enough to say that I don't like them and don't want them on my plate.

I'm just so happy that my late-Grandmother's table went off to a lady who really wanted something that was Art Deco and pretty for her home; something she was going to use after she fixed up the chairs and get rid of the wobble in the table. But seeing how old the whole set is, it's in pretty good condition and has been cared for well. I just hope the lady looks after it and loves it as much as it has been loved over the last 30 - 40 years; as those types of dining settings were built to last - just like the Chiswell. And I'll never let mine go because of how well it's built. 

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