A Project to Remember Those Who Are No Longer Here

That You Can Do Too

These are the little phrases that were perfectly and quintessentially my mother’s. On this first Christmas that she’s not here I wanted to bring her back in a little way, so I made these ornaments.

When the house is very still and quiet, as it is now with the dogs sleeping and Mike away with his family, I can hear the clear chime of her voice calling me over to have a seat and tell her what’s new, or comforting me with those encouraging phrases that only mothers truly believe. She would say “Ta” for thank you, because she picked it up when we lived in England and it reminded her of our best years together there. She’d call up and ask about upcoming estate sales and say “Let’s go play” to go shopping or out to lunch to get out of the house.

Although I’m sure “What’ll we have for dinner?” is a question asked in almost every household every day, my mother had a precise way of asking it right in the middle of lunch when thoughts of dinner couldn’t be furthest from one’s mind. We’d laugh about it, but she couldn’t help herself. The next day at lunch, in all seriousness, she’d ask again: “What’ll we have for dinner?”

She couldn’t bring herself to swear, but she would allow herself a “Fiddle Faddle” if the need arose. In the last years she came to be almost blind, but could still see a little, and she’d say “I can’t see” many times a day in frustration as she tried to do something she’d used to be able to do. And a few important times, she would grow contemplative and say with all seriousness, “I’ve had a good life”. And I really hope she did.

I’m sharing these ornaments with you today because I’ve come to realize just how many of you are going through hard times and are deeply missing someone. Sometimes it’s just nice to know someone else is missing someone too. And sometimes it’s helpful to see how others are processing their grief…

Although if I’m going to be completely honest, I’m doing a bad job of it. My mother was the one who would comfort me in times like this, and telling myself what she would have told me (“Why don’t you go take a hot bath and go to bed early? You’ll feel better in the morning…”) doesn’t have the same impact. Perhaps these ornaments are a way of being able to hear her say them again? And so maybe I’ll listen and actually decide what to defrost for dinner before 9 o’clock at night, and go to bed before 2 o’clock in the morning, and stop overworking, and take a minute to go play, and at the end of it all be able to say, “I’ve had a good life,” too.

If reading what my mother used to say has reminded you of what your mother used to say, or still does say, or the phrases of another loved one of yours, then there are many ways for you to make ornaments like these at home in time for Christmas (although ornaments like these are of course not limited to Christmas).

I’ve done these as part of teaching myself ceramics, and this batch has a variety of experiments (some more successful than others) with new clay, slip, stains, and sgraffito. If you don’t have access to clay and a kiln, though, there are easy alternatives. A local craft store might still have blank ornaments you could write on with ceramic pens. Or, you could simply cut out cardboard in any shape you like and decorate with gel pens and colored pencils. A third option is to pick up some polymer clay or air-dry clay and a little stamp set.

And a fourth, related easy project is to make a paper chain of colorful paper with quotations written inside: you might write sayings from all the people you’ve loved and who have loved you, who are both still in this world and who are waiting in the next. It might be a great big tear-jerker of a project, but the best heirlooms put us through the emotional wringer, don’t they?