Dishes I Never Use

The picture above is my Noritake Rosemist dishes. Aren't they pretty? One day approximately 30 years ago, my little gray-haired grandmother walked into my house carrying a box that contained the teapot and a few other pieces. She said she wanted me to have them. I was delighted that she had given me something so special.

As I unpacked and looked at the lovely dishes, she then told me she had won them as a door prize at some party. My heart sank just a little bit because it wasn't quite as special as I first thought. Then she went on to say she had never even unpacked them, and in fact, until she was getting ready to move, she had forgotten she even had them. My mouth sank a little with that one. My special gift had turned into her yard sale item.

Nevertheless, I have kept them all these years and treasured them, and as a matter of fact, added additional pieces to make an entire set. Not an easy task, I'll tell you, because apparently, they were only made for a short period of time. Another interesting fact I discovered was that most of them ended up in Australia of all places. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that Susan Jane probably eats off these dishes.

I soon realized a teapot was wasted on me, though, because, believe it or not, I don't host a lot of tea parties. When I do get the urge to have a cup myself, I usually just make it a cup at a time. Therefore, my pretty little dishes sit in the china cabinet and look all shiny.

These dishes belong to a herd of dishes that I don't, and probably never will, use. So why do I keep them? My children have already informed me that they don't want them. It's not like my grandmother thought dearly of them. It seems almost sacrilegious to eat turnip greens and cornbread on them. Yet, like so many other fancy platters, over-sized bowls and odd-shaped pitchers that take up space, I find it hard to discard them.

Is this an age thing? Could I possibly be getting sentimental in my old age? Me, who used to be so lacking in my regard for materialism that I even threw away love letters?

Or have I just lived long enough to realize that a little tradition in our lives is a good thing? Maybe there's something nice about a small string that runs through generations and binds our family. I need to ponder these things. Maybe, I'll go fix myself a pot of tea and think on it.