So excited to hit up the antique fairs this summer. Did those words just seriously come out of my mouth? I used to loathe going to these things when Pat and I started dating but he dragged me to them all the time. I usually just walked around with my head down, begging for an ice cream cone, a lobster roll and fresh lemonade in the sweltering heat.
Pat has a collection of some antiques in our house. He has a huge old trunk, an antique radio that plays radio stations all the way from Japan and even has an old phonograph that takes up half of our living room. It’s a record player from the 30’s that plays one song at a time; after you hand crank it full speed. When it’s nice out, we open the windows, play songs from another time and listen to the records crackling on the needle. We are so uncool and awesome at the same time.
A few years back, Pat and his grandma went through all of her old records and her face lit up when she came across the record that her and his grandfather shared. We had her over our house to listen to all of the music she handed down to Pat but she was unable to come into our house. We opened our living room windows, moved the phonograph closer to the windows, wheeled her in our front yard and let the record play that she hadn’t heard in 60 years. The memories that overwhelmed her was summed up in a giant smile and a few tears all around.
That was the moment I appreciated antiques. They connect us with the past as well as provide Pat and I with some Frank Sintara to dance to in the middle of our living room.
Don’t send us to the nursing home yet. We have a few more good years left in us.