This was my Grandma's sewing box. She kept various needles, and small sewing tools in it. I remember first seeing this when I was perhaps three or four.
I also remember the shooting star that streaked over my Aunt Josey's house out in the country. The memory of this box, and that star are commingled. At this time in my life,..I'm pushing 60. I'm fascinated with family stories. Both mine, and others.
As every writer knows family is a rich source of material. Long time fans will have read the many stories I've written about my life, and family here, and other blogs.
Well 'this' is my grandma's little sewing box. She bought it in the early 1920's just before my mom was born. In 1972 when Granny passed away the box was passed on to me.
For most of the years between then, and now I've used it as a medicine pouch.
Native Americans or as most of you call them Red Indians use these pouches as protective talismans. One puts personal scared items in a skin or cloth bag. It's then "blessed" or in some way consecrated by your shaman.
You then wear it or keep it very near for life. It will protect you,...or so tradition sez.
Unlike Grandma I can't pass the box/pouch on. One doesn't. You take your pouch with you to the next life. So in my case It'll be cremated with me.
Stay Tuned.
1 comment:
That's a beautiful little box. I'm very fond of agates and semiprecious stones, and I like the dragonfly as well.
I too plan to have myself cremated, though naturally I hope that won't be for a long time to come. My father was cremated long ago, and his ashes spread over the ocean. The latter I did for a friend a year or so ago. I hope it won't come up again any time soon.
I don't know about you, but one of my motives for creating my art is to leave a body of work that will long outlast me, disclosing some trace of myself to those to come.
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