Granny's buttons

/

I have two tins of buttons.

One is small and kind of boring. It's filled mostly with spare buttons in plastic packages, thrown into the can for safekeeping in the event a garment needs a replacement.

That small, boring can of buttons is mine.

Then I have a larger tin of buttons. It's filled to the brim with what looks like buttons, but they're actually treasures. Treasures from my mother-in-law, also known as Granny to most anyone who knows her.

Granny's tin of treasures became mine when she was moved into a nursing home a few years ago.

Inside Granny's tin that's now mine are hundreds of buttons. It's hard to imagine the years upon years of outfits losing buttons. Baubles and bits found in the washer or dryer on laundry day, buried deep in shag carpeting of long ago, or dangling frustratingly so by threads as one headed out the door to work, school, or special affairs.

Some of the buttons were surely from Granny's own dresses and blouses. Many more, though, likely wiggled their way off outfits worn by her six children, her first then second husbands, possibly even some from her nearly fifty grandchildren and great-grandchildren who stayed with her now and again.

Granny's tin also holds several cards filled with unused buttons, fancy bits never removed from their original packaging. Looking at them I wonder what plans Granny had for such treasures, plans she never realized for one reason or another.

I now have plans for Granny's buttons, for her treasures. I plan to share them with her many grandchildren. And her great-grandchildren, like Bubby and Mac, as well as her great-great-grandchildren, of which there are, surprisingly, already one or two.

I've not yet finalized the ultimate button-sharing plan, though, the projects I'll create to divide up Granny's buttons to be enjoyed by all. For now, I'm starting off small, passing them along to my children one by one, like this: 

When wrapping Andrea's birthday presents in July, I topped each with a button. One of Granny's buttons. One of Granny's treasures.

Brianna's birthday is this weekend. I'll be doing the same for her. Come Megan's birthday in December, she'll get treasure-topped gifts, too. Maybe my girls can start their own button tins with Granny's buttons.

I've pinned on my Pinterest boards several button project ideas and am still looking for more. Eventually I'll settle on one or two, then set to work sharing Granny's buttons. Her treasures.

In the meantime, I'll keep adding my own buttons and spare button packets to my own small, boring tin. Maybe eventually I'll need a bigger tin. Perhaps one day my tin will be like Granny's—filled to the brim with buttons.

They may look like buttons now, but they may one day be treasures. Treasures for my kids. For my grandkids and their kids, too.

Just like Granny's treasures. Just like Granny's buttons.

Today's question:

What do you do with your spare buttons?

The grandma in a box

/

This post was named People's Choice in the humor category in the 2013 BlogHer Voices of the Year.

BH13_VotYSelected_150x150.jpg
Grandma in a box.jpg

A STORY:

Once upon a time there was a woman.

Who had a husband.

And three daughters.

Plus one house, two cats, two dogs, and an addiction to collecting books and pictures of people she loved.

And she had a writing job that had nothing—yet everything—to do with all of the above that she loved.

She liked rock music, independent films, and playing games with her friends—which was usually paired with a wee bit of drinking, too, whiskey or beer but never, ever umbrella drinks of any sort.

The woman also liked learning new things, especially when it came to computers, cameras, cooking and cantatas.

(She also really liked alliteration, so cantatas worked far better in that sentence than piano.)

The woman loved her mom, her dad, her brothers and sisters. She loved Jesus and America, too—as well as stories and songs that turned her heart inside out.

The woman liked the things most women do. No matter what their age.

Eventually the woman’s daughters grew up and flew away. One got married and had two sons.

Which made the woman a grandma. Yet another thing she loved.

So the woman added to her writing job, writing about those grandsons. Writing about them online—along with lots of other things she'd write about—on a blog.

Which was confusing to some.

It wasn't the writing on the blog that confused some, it was the being a grandma. Grandmas are old and know nothing about being online. Or anything interesting at all, for that matter. Grandmas rock in rocking chairs, they hug and kiss their grandkids, they pull up their gray hair into buns. Maybe they crochet. But that's pretty much it.

At least that's what it seemed some non-grandma bloggers thought of grandma bloggers. They’re only grandmas. They’re old. They’re boring. And they’re invisible if there's the G-word in their name, the G-word in their game.

Once a grandma,only a grandma, they thought.

Some unenlightened brands, bloggy networks, and PR folks seemed to think the same thing, too.

If they even thought of grandmas at all.

Other grandmas understood. Other grandma bloggers really understood—even those who didn’t write specifically about their grandchildren, about being a grandma.

The other grandmas understood because all of the grandmas, online and off, were put in the very same box. Were trying to get out of the same box. Together were saying, HEY, you meanies who squished us up into this uncomfortable GRANDMA box: We want out! We love our grandkids way beyond words, but they’re not all we love. Can’t you see we are so much more than grandmas? Can’t you see we are all that we were before? Can't you see that we are now all that AND a bag of potato chips, er, grandmas!

But the non-grandmas didn’t see any of that. They didn't see the woman and her fellow grandmas pounding on the box. All they saw was the word GRANDMA. And the box.

If they saw anything at all.

Every once in a while, someone did see something at all. Mostly it was just the word GRANDMA, though, and they thought the boxed-up grandmas would be happy as clams to talk about canes and assisted living centers and denture cream and gadgets that help them when they’ve fallen and can’t get up.

Those non-grandmas didn’t realize grandmas can and do get up. On their own. And they get down, too. That they're still vibrant and relevant. That they still love music. Still have jobs that have nothing to do with being a grandma, yet love the job of being a grandma, too. They still have spouses and daughters and sons and parents and brothers and sisters and animals and friends and interests.

And that they do all the very same things they did before they became grandmas.

They even—gasp!—still have S-E-X.

And they still talk about and write about things that matter, with people and for people who matter.

So that woman who was now a grandma but still had a husband and three daughters and still really loved all sorts of things non-grandmas think grandmas shouldn't or couldn't like decided to write about being stuck in the GRANDMA box.

In hopes others might see her and her grandma friends in there and let them out.

Or…perhaps they might do nothing at all.

But at least that grandma who loves, loves, loves being a grandma yet is so much more than a grandma would have her say.

Then she ended her plea for release from the GRANDMA box with an oh-so cute photo of her grandsons. Simply because she could.

And to further confuse those non-grandmas who Just. Don't. Get. It. 

THE END

Today's question:

Anyone second that emotion?

GRAND Social — Grandparent linky — August 13

/
Writer Rebecca West once said, "There was a definite process by which one made people into friends, and it involved talking to them and listening to them for hours at a time." She shared that wisdom a long time ago—she was born in 1892 and died 90 years later—but it still applies. We become friends by talking to others and by listening to others.

Nowadays, though, we often become friends with folks we'll likely never meet in person, folks whose voice we'll likely never hear. Thanks to the Internet. It's where we write our stories instead of talking about them, read those stories instead of listening to them.

The GRAND Social is a great opportunity to do just that: to share our stories, read each other's stories, become friends. I hope you'll join me!

How it works:

  • All grandparent bloggers are invited to add a link. You don't have to blog specifically about grandparenting, but you must be a grandparent who blogs.
  • Posts shared can be an old one or a recent one, your choice. I like to link up to older posts that current readers likely haven't seen.
  • To link up, copy the direct link to the specific post you want to share, not the link to your blog's home page. Then click the blue "Click here to enter" text below and follow the directions to add your post to the list.
  • You can add up to three posts, but no duplicates, please, and none you have promoted on a previous GRAND Social linky.
  • No contests, giveaways, or Etsy sites.
  • Adding a mention at the bottom of your linked posts, such as This post has been linked to the GRAND Social linky, is appreciated. Or, you can post the GRAND Social button using the following code:

Grandma’sBriefs.com

<a href="/" target="_blank"><img src="http://grandmasbriefs.squarespace.com/storage/GRANDsocialbutton.jpg " alt="Grandma’sBriefs.com" width="125" height="125" /></a>

 

  • The GRAND Social linky is open for new posts through Wednesday evening, so please come back to see those added after your first visit.
  • If you're not a blogger, you have the pleasure of being a reader. All bloggers who link up would be honored to have you click, visit, read and comment.

READERS and PARTICIPATING BLOGGERS: Please visit the posts others have linked to by clicking on the thumbnail photos. Comments are always appreciated by the bloggers whose links you visit, even if it's simply "Hey, stopping by from GRAND Social."

Thank you for participating in the GRAND Social grandparent linky!