Monday, February 8, 2010

Soap Dish Nostalgia

I remember certain places and things about my childhood so vividly. One of those places is my Papa Eramo's house. I realized not too long ago, that I have always thought of it as "Papa's house," instead of "Nana and Papa's house". My Nana Eramo passed away when I was just two years old. I wish, so much, that I could have known her. I will see her again one day in Heaven. I know that so much of her is who my Mom is, and my Mom is an amazing woman.

The memories I do have, of going to stay at Papa's house, who lived about 2 1/2 hours away, will always be dear to me. When you're a little kid, things seem so exciting, new and different when you're in a place that's not your home. I can still picture everything about that house. The carpet, the walls, the sounds of the kitchen early in the morning, the bedspread in the room my mom grew up in, little figurines that lined wooden shelves, the mysterious basement, the smell of Papa's awful cigarettes, the garage door, the picture over the couch, the way the sun shone through the wide metal blinds...

Recently, I spent an afternoon walking through the hundreds of booths at our local Craft Antique Co-Op. I stopped in my tracks when I saw this soap dish, sitting amidst a pile of random vintage items, in a booth that was crammed to the brim with stuff. I hadn't seen this dish in years, and the only place that I had ever seen it, was on the bathroom vanity at my Papa's house. I was taken back with nostalgia, picturing it in that blue carpeted bathroom, where it had always been.

I had to take it home. Just to have a little piece of that memory. It doesn't matter if it isn't the actual one. To me, it might as well be. The bottom of the soap dish notes that it is an Avon piece, which makes sense, because my Nana liked Avon. So do I. After some digging on Etsy, I found out "this charming milk glass dish was once produced by Avon in the popular “Queen Victoria’s hands” form to hold guest soaps". Which is ironic, because I avoid bar soap at all costs. I hate it. To this day. The feel of a soapy bar of soap irks me, like I cannot explain. It's liquid soap only for this gal. I would rather not wash my hands if it came down to it. Think what you will.

It may not seem like anything much to anyone else. It may even look a little creepy (it is pretty life like!). But I am blessed by this little found treasure and the memories it reminds me of.

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