The First...

Well, here we go.

I have put off writing my first blog post as long as possible. I have written it in my head at least 100 times. However, that was usually around 1 am or after a glass of wine or four. Sadly, what I remember the morning after is never quite as insightful as it seemed the night before.

Truthfully, the first anything is pretty intimidating to me. First kiss, first day of school, first job, first child, first time getting off a ski lift…these are all a big deal. And, at least for me, most of them led to embarrassing moments and/or bruising. Firsts can be frightening.

Firsts should be monumental. They should set the tone for every single thing that follows. So I wanted my first blog post to be filled with insightful thoughts and relatable humor. I wanted the reader to be giddy with excitement while also being spiritually moved by my words. In a nutshell, I wanted to write something, really anything that would do no less than change lives.

But changing a life is a pretty tall order. When I sat back and really thought about what I wanted to accomplish, I realized my goal was really much more simple. What I want is for you to want to come back. I want you to want to hear my stories. Because the furniture, china, glassware and knick-knacks are not just pieces to me, they are pieces of me.

My pieces tell a story. They tell my story, my mom’s story and my grandmother’s story. Many of my pieces were some of the first things my grandmother could afford to buy. She only bought things that she loved, not liked. And once they were hers, she treasured them forever. Many of the pieces that were hers and then my mother's and now mine, were dragged onto ships and crossed oceans. They were packed onto trains and dragged across Europe and Asia. These pieces were travelers and I fell in love with their stories. Where they were found, why they were purchased, who they had belonged to before, where had they been and even what she was wearing when she bought them. Pieces that have that type of history become a part of your history. They were part of my grandmother’s history. They are a part of my mother's history and now mine.

Not every piece of my collection has been on the journey that many of my grandmother’s treasures travelled. But they do all have a story. And I hope that I get to continue to help write their stories by making them a part of your special events.

So there it is, the first blog post. Now let’s make some memories.