The Contingency Plan

There are a few traditions my family keeps when one returns from an overseas trip:

1. We'll always have a cup of tea/coffee and a snack at the airport, no matter how exhausted. They could serve us water and we'd still sit there, revelling;

2. All gifts and purchases are unpacked almost immediately. Making an extravagent mess is mandatory;

3. Naps are necessary - sympathic naps for those who haven't travelled, unless 'to the airport' counts; and

4. Cooking is a no-no. Take away or a relaxing meal somewhere local where they don't mind the almost offensive tiredness and meaningless conversation of those truly jetlagged is key.

I always find the second ritual an interesting one as the gifts are similar to a lucky dip prize. For instance, amongst the gaudy watches, pink and black herringbone miniskirts and fake designer bags will be a natural, five carat blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds or a truly exquisite tea set, hand crafted with detailed dragons.

This year Mum took quite a sentimental and cryptic route with her gifts and I'm amazed at how my sister and I were naturally drawn to certain pieces over others.

One of them is an ancient Chinese-style lock on a simple silver chain and the design of the piece instantly resonated with me. Natasha thought it was cool, but to me, it was more. There was something I intrinsically liked about it.

Mum also brought back three bracelets, simillar in design, but all bespoke. One for each of us. The pieces were formed by using an old Chinese style of jewellery-making with a silver chain holding together a large, carved piece of jade and a charm. My sister chose the one she liked best and my later choice was simple.

Mum then made a comment about fate as the charm on my bracelet was a match to the lock. I looked and she was correct.

I paused for a moment and Mum then reminded me of a silver necklace I wore for years as a young girl. It was actually her piece but I loved it so much that she passed it on. As a girl, I remember trying it on whenever she would get ready for a night out with Dad. It was the only time I was allowed. She always looked so beautiful, so womanly and glamorous and it filled me with hope. The necklace was my mother, her heritage and how it felt to be a little girl growing up in Sydney and learning about a culture that seems so foreign yet so familiar all the same.

We somehow lost the necklace and never knew how or when. I haven't thought of it at all over the years. The shape of it is the same as the lock and the charm today, except the silver was much thinner. I feel like I've recovered something indescribably precious from my past.

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My experience today reminded of an article I recently read on the meanings and magic we give inanimate objects. Who would've thought that the piano John Lennon composed "Imagine" on would mean so much on tour in Waco, Oklahomo City, New Orleans and Virginia Tech?

One of the first points made in the article is that anything can be sacred. It's not the object that matters, but the unique history we have with it that makes it sacred. To paraphrase, think of wedding bands, safety blankets children have, etc.

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In a concealed compartment in my jewellery box lies a small plastic hospital band with my name, date of birth, and 'male' written on it. The tag was wrapped around Hugo's left leg for the first three days of his life. Nearly lies an emerald from a ring that Dad bought for my mother. It was an anniversary present we spent weeks researching. It was the first time Dad took my opinion seriously and also reminds me of translating my mother's words and emotions onto cards for those special occassions.

In my kitchen, there's a very thin, smooth and dark rolling pin. It belonged to my grandmother and she used it to make dumplings. It was the only precious item Mum brought with her to Australia and for over 25 years, she has also made dumplings with the very same rolling pin. It's now my turn.

And hanging in my wardrobe is the dress I wore when I first met Luc. I haven't worn it since and although it's still waaay too small, I can't bring myself to give it away. It doesn't just represent Luc, but reminds me of first love and how it billows.

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So. Do you agree with these sentiments? And if so, what are some of your sacred pieces and the stories behind them?

Wow, great post and what wonderful finds your mother brought back. I like some of your post-travel traditions. Our family's usually involves drinking copious amounts of alcohol and staying up late upon the arrival of the visiting party.

Some of my sacred pieces are kitchen stuff from my grandmother (who passed away in 2001). I have a set of metal cups (these were all the rage before insulated plastic) in all different colors. I also have an enameled roast pan also from my grandmother. I have a couple of ex-boyfriend items that I still wear (a leather jacket, a t-shirt, and some jewelry). And of course, various pieces of jewelry given to me by family members and my husband. I wanted to save the Branch's little plastic spoon but it broke. :( Then I lost one of the pieces.

Junebee

Thanks Junebee.

You know, I really wasn't aware of these traditions until Mum's recent trip. I like your traditions too ;)

I love the sound of your grandmother's cups. There are so many stories behind the 'things' we own. I loved how the thinking behind this post made my little house full of tales that intertwined and made things feel somewhat fuller.