I Took It As A Sign

 It started years ago....15 maybe 20 years ago. I'd been thinking about love. It was one of those eras of my life. I loved everything sentimental and romantic. It occurred to me then that so many of the objects and stories that mark our lives with love, end up in dusty drawers or stowed in shoe boxes under the bed....their stories lost to the ages.  Military museums elaborate about every weapon and bullet used to fight a war. Yet, love goes on about it's business. I was talking to my sister-in-law, Linda McKibben Johnson, one day and I mentioned this observation. I added that there should be a museum for these artifacts of love. Linda says "Stay right there." She got up, went to her bedroom and came back with a beautiful, white lacy blouse. She dropped the blouse into my lap and said "Get it started!" I was dumbfounded... "Me?" I thought. She explained that the handmade lace blouse was a wedding blouse from Cuba and had belonged to a dear friend of hers - John Ledbetter- who had passed away. His wife was from Cuba and had worn the blouse during their wedding. She died at a young age. They never had any children and John wanted the blouse to be cared for.  She liked my idea for a museum and so with that blouse, I began the Museum of Love and Marriage. Before you load up the kids and head out to see this magical place...read on. Right now, the museum is pretty much in boxes. The very thing I was working to change. I have been working to get a datebook featuring many of these items published and that is still my dream.

     Today, I want to tell a story about this blue veil. Several months ago, my husband told me that I probably should be looking for a job because the cabinet store that I manage and he owns, may need to be closed. Times are tight. So I began to ponder what my future should be. Maybe I should apply at Lowes. I like hardware and know some about fixing things. Or maybe I should go to Kohls and see if they are hiring for the holidays. Yet, I still hated the idea of all those beautiful items sitting in boxes - neglected. Their stories lost to the world. Then one day last week I was going through some files, tossing out useless papers. I came across the museum datebook rough draft. As I thumbed through it, I felt like each photo was calling out to me with their beauty - hundreds of items with stories to tell. And for an instant I thought, maybe I should do a blog about my museum. That very thought was going through my head as my husband and I travelled to visit our friends in Illinois last weekend. What would the blog look like? Who would it appeal to? Should I even attempt it?  It's been so long since I'd done any outright collecting of "love artifacts" that I'd almost forgotten how it feels to come across that special something. On Saturday morning, my friend Ruth, says "I've got a few things to give you."  She took a zip lock bag out of a plastic carry all and set it in my hands. I looked at the item for the longest minute. It was a powder blue cloud of crepe material wound around a head piece of beads. Ruth says "That was Mother's veil." A surge of electricity went through my arms. It was like the universe again saying "Get it started." I took it as a sign! I could tell that it was a tough moment for Ruth as her mother passed away this past March.  In that instant I felt a connection with Helen, who had been dear to me and my family, and with my friend Ruth.

   

A powder blue vision of loveliness

According to Ruth: " After having lost the love of her life about a year prior, Helen Evans Wyatt married Claude L. Woody on August 29, 1975 at Pinnacle Baptist Church. Maid of Honor was her daughter, Ruth. The Best Man was Helen's son Steve and her son David was an Usher. Bob Wyatt (son-in-law) gave her away. Helen's grand daughter , Christel, was the Flower Girl. The newlyweds honeymooned in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Claude had lived in Emerald Isle during his previous marriage. He had owned and operated a seafood restaurant in the area. Claude and his deceased wife never had children but he had a miniature greyhound that he loved like a child. By marrying Helen, Claude also attained a new family and 4 grown step children. He and Helen spent several happy years together growing beautiful roses by their home in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Claude no longer seemed lonely and at his passing, Helen was by his side. During his illness the doctor felt caring for his dog was to much stress for Claude. Shortly after Claude's passing, so did the dog, even though it was well cared for by a friend."