The most amazing thing happened tonight. My cousin, Amy, in Oregon, sent me this picture on FB:
She also sent this message: Look at what Chris found on eBay and gifted to my dad! Can you believe it?? Jim hasn't taken it off!!
Here is a news article from the 70's I found about my Dad leading a retreat to give you a little background and for a crappy black and white visual:
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As you can see and read, my Pops was a potter and a teacher and a spiritual retreat leader. In his community, he was kind of a big deal. You can imagine my surprise, then, to see one of his marks come up on eBay, because those were pieces that represented his whole theology--he was marked as a sinner and redeemed by Christ's blood--and it just seems like $10 on the internet isn't special enough for that piece of my Dad. Alternately, though, I am elated that my cousin found it and was able to give it to his father, my dad's nephew. What are the chances? I mean, I'm truly thrilled. Dad loved his nephews like sons and I know he couldn't be happier than to have found a way home to his family. Wear it well, Jim, and remember to tell my Dad I say "hey" every once in a while.
Anyway, this whole episode makes me think about how we value things and how an original Bud Wilkinson has intrinsic value for me and a whole lot of people who loved him, but it's worth $10 on eBay to someone (who probably was gifted it or found it while cleaning up a loved one's affairs or any myriad of circumstances) who did not know my Dad(or did and didn't like that piece or my Dad). Value is something I question all the time, probably because I'm a person who likes things. I love to shop and find treasures and bargains and to make things and surround myself with beautiful things. But I have a big family and although we have a nice-sized home, there is never enough room for everything. Paper alone takes up about 15% of our home, not to mention the living room-sized kennel for the incontinent Great Dane, so space is at a premium in our home. If I bring home more things, they immediately lose their value because there isn't room for them to be special. So, lately, I've had to really think about whether things are valuable enough to come into the house.
And then I think about the value of people and of our personal history and how I saw that picture on my Facebook and IMMEDIATELY flashed on hundreds of mental images of Dad wearing a mark around his neck, like when he wore his gorgeous, blue batik dashiki to my sister's wedding or when he was cruising around town in the yellow shirt that my mom made for him or the picture I have of him and my Aunt June and Uncle Nibby and they are all gone now and once my dad was alive and wearing a necklace just like the image on the computer in front of me. That organic circle of flattened clay means more to me than any tchotchke or fine piece of art I could buy.
I can't judge the person who put Dad's mark on eBay(I mean, I can, but I'm trying not to) because they didn't have a personal history with a chunk of clay. It's just a thing. I will take more time, though, to think about the things I have and how I can imbue them with memory and experience that will have value to those who knew me and I'm understanding that has more to do with who I am than any old thing.
Please tell me about the things that you value. I would love to hear about them.
Love,
Corks
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