One of my favorite things to do is to set a fancy tablescape for a special meal with family and friends. On Thanksgiving, for a St. Patrick’s Day Tea, or even for Mother’s Day brunch, I’ll pull a little bit of this and that out of my hutches. I let my creative energy flow and sculpt a pretty tablescape complete with linens and silver. Everyone has their own place setting at the table for these meals, especially the little ones.
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While many in my generation eschew their grandparents’ and parents’ hand-me-downs, I am a sentimental xennial. I’ve always loved the odds and ends of dishes that get passed down to me from family members.
I own a beloved set of peach lusterware dishes that belonged to my great-grandparents. Sitting proudly beside the set in my dish hutch is a photo of my great-grandfather plating himself a birthday meal on the very plates stacked next to it. The dishes have been through quite a few family meals since that photo was taken in the 1970s. They have scratches and some chips. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I remember large family meals at my grandparents’ house where stacks of Corell dinner plates would be laid out next to baskets full of real metal forks and spoons.
My grandmother and an aunt, always in an occasion-appropriate apron, would stand at the sink ready to wash dishes as we finished up. One side of the sink would be filled with soapy water to wash and the other side with hot clean water to rinse. Another family member would be ready with a towel to dry the dishes and put them away. When they were finished, the window above the sink that looked out onto the family farm would be foggy from the steam.
Like most, my extended family has since shifted to the easier-to-clean-up disposable options. However, the Christmas after my grandfather passed away, the stacks of Corell and the baskets of silverware made their way out of the cupboards for one last family gathering.
Using the “real,” “fancy” dishes, especially ones that have been passed down from my family, brings me happy memories and leaves me feeling connected to past generations. It’s a family tradition that I want to pass along to my sons.
So, when I set a fancy table, they get their very own place settings with real dishes and a real teacup. They absolutely LOVE it. They feel so special getting to use the “fancy” dishes.
I hope that when they are grown, they’ll see a plate or a teapot that will remind them of having tea with their momma when they were little or of a big family Christmas dinner. Or, thank God for my husband, they’ll remember their dad at the sink washing the dishes after, dutifully polishing the silver before putting it away.
I hope that they will pass along that shining example of serving and loving their partners and families.
Yes, sometimes some of my pretty things get broken. A shamrock teapot dutifully stands as a centerpiece rather than a functional part of our St. Patrick’s Day Tea after a run-in with a particularly rambunctious little Leprechaun.
Things are always repurposable or replaceable, but the memories are not.
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