When I was a kid, I spent weekends at my grandparents, and we would inevitably have oatmeal with cinnamon toast for breakfast. This meal holds deep-seated feelings and warm emotions for me still.
Recently, my grandfather passed away to join my grandmother who died in 1994. Before he died, he expressed to my aunt that he wanted me to have their Noritake china set. Unfortunately, I'm not a person who has the space or time for the frivolousness of additional plateware, to be put on display or maybe only to be used once a year. (Well, aside from my few Christmas pieces.) So I decided right from the start that I would put this plateware into daily use and enjoy it at every meal. Be joyful for its service instead of devistated at it's likely destruction.
I had no idea how emotional and powerful this would be for me. I love seeing these plates and bowls at every meal. They conjure up a moment of oceanside childhood that I don't get to think about often. They remind me of the special meals and overnights spent with my grandparents, and what memories my children will create with theirs.
As I remember my Grandpa's decision for me to have these dishes, I am surprised and grateful for this gesture as family keepsakes were furthest from all our minds as we watched Gramps battle an agressive cancer. I am touched that he thought of me and I don't know if he knows how special this act ever was.
Today, as I eat oatmeal out of the shallow bowl with roses, I think of my grandparents. And I miss them.
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