If you needed a postcard to send from New England, you could take a photograph just about anywhere in Newtown, Connecticut. It would be perfectly picturesque, completely conveying the feeling of its state and New England. My grandparents Charlie and Elsie Clark, built their home there. It is where they remained until my grandfather died. My grandmother stayed in the house until her health began to fail. Then it was time to let the house go.

What came before the house construction was the purchase and the clearing of their property, which was carved out of a stony ridge that led into a forest. The trees needed cutting before a foundation for their log cabin was poured. From the felled timber, nothing was wasted. It was utilized to make the house, its flooring, walls of knotty pine, cabinetry, and furniture. My grandfather was a garage owner and mechanic, but with typical can-do spirit, he was also an amazing woodworker. Everything that he could do himself, he did.

I am the proud inheritor of two pieces of furniture my grandfather made from his land’s lumber. One is a cabinet that my grandmother used for her fabrics for sewing. The other is a lovely, little china cabinet, a vitrine really, since so much of it is composed of glass.  I don’t know what drew me to this piece specifically. It certainly isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Its carpentry is simple in nature, its drawer pulls basic. I remember it always being in the same corner of my grandparent’s dining room. I know my grandfather made it from trees that once surrounded the area he called home; maybe this is why I am so attached to it.

My grandmother was an obsessive tchotchke collector, bordering on hoarding. The cabinet was filled to capacity with teacup and saucer sets, petite porcelain figurines, single bud flower vases, crystal animals, and other things that I can’t quite recall any longer. Since my living quarters had never been in grandiose spaces, the cabinet could fit anywhere, taking little floor area.

Since coming out of my grandmother’s home, it has been in six residences. As stated in previous blogs, I have been happily downsizing. Last fall, some serious purging of the cabinet took place. Now it displays items that I truly love, such as champagne flutes that were a wedding gift from my late mother-in-law and a demitasse set from my Oma.

One thing that has changed over time is the smell emanating from the cabinet when the door opens. My grandparent’s home was always heated with a wood stove. When something needed to come out of the cabinet, the singular odor of warm, burned wood would come wafting from its interior. Unfortunately, that fragrance has dissipated over time, but has left a vivid, lingering memory.  

So from Connecticut pine tree, to cherished keepsake in New York, I find so much joy in this china cabinet. It is one of the few items from a family member that I can track its entire history. Hopefully one of my children will want to choose this cabinet for their own, continuing its journey within the family. One can only wonder where it may end up down the road.