Quite often that which is passed down father to son or mother to daughter is done so without the successive owners knowing "the story". Oh, everyone, every place, everything has a story.
In my short life, there are plenty of stories. True stories.
Being the lowest rank in the USAF, fresh out of BMT, my first base was Hickam AB, Honolulu, Hawai'i. I know. Pua ting, you.
As having very much of my own money was new to me, it was a new discovering of what I liked, shaping my own personal style.
As many people know, Hawai'i is a warm, humid, tropical climate.
With that said, I went into the Hickam AB, BX (Base Exchange) one day, I saw a small rack of hand crocheted cardigans. To me, they were elegant, light. Perfect as a light cardigan for evenings out on the town.
Alas, the price was more than I could afford.
Being the very lowest rank in the USAF had certain benefits. Benefits such as being given the benefit of the doubt for any faux pas due to my rank & inexperience. One of those benefits was not a higher salary. The cardigan had captured my attention. Trying it on felt so nice. It was a very lightweight elegant wrap. The softness of the lacy crocheted pattern against the backs of my arms was equally nice. Still, I didn't have enough $$ to justify spending so much on something that was more of a want, less of a need.
It's granted that my basic needs were provided for.
Housing (barracks life, ugh)
Meals (Chow hall!)
Uniforms (USAF baby!)
Utilities (AC can be pricy)
Still, I was only 19, had never been taught how to manage money. At that time, I would spend close to my entire salary in the first week of the month.
Oops!
Still had a lot to learn about impulse spending, money management. Skills that had been taught to many of my peers weren't taught to me as they ought to have been.
Every chance I got, I went into the BX to try the cardigan on, tried to talk myself into buying one in my size. There were several, maybe 20 of the cardigans in different sizes. It seemed that one in my size would be around for a while. What had escaped my notice was that someone was watching me. Every time I went in, to try the cardigan on, someone was watching me.
After a month & 1/2 or so, I went into the BX to try a cardigan on, possibly, finally, buy one. As I went to the rack where they were there before. They were all gone. Looking around, hoping they had only been moved, my heart sank. Please keep in mind, I was only 19. Also, it felt as if I was less mature than my peers. Looking without finding the cardigan was far from the end of the world.
For me, it was a deep let down.
As hard as I fought it, a couple tears slipped down my face. The person who had been watching me, approached, asked me if I needed to sit for a moment. He guided me to a place with a small table & 2 chairs, asked me to wait there for him to come back.
It was a bit perplexing, still, I had the time to sit for a few minutes.
After a short time, the guy reappeared, walked toward me. He had the cardigan that was just my size, in his hands. Unsure of what was happening, I asked him where he had found it. I told him that my rank was very low, that I had wanted the cardigan very much, couldn't afford it.
As it turned out, he was the manager of the BX.
He held the price tag up, turned it over, wrote $1.00 on it. A price I could easily afford. He smiled, I grinned great big, a couple of happy tears slipped down my face.
He accompanied me to the register where he told the cashier that he had okayed the discount.
I was so overjoyed, although I was just going to the beach that day, I wore the beautiful cardigan over my hot pink bikini. It was perfect, so versatile it could be worn just about anywhere. With a bikini, jeans & tee or an evening gown.
I was to go out with a guy I had been spending time with later in the day. The cardigan would be perfect.
When my guy picked me up, he handed a dozen white roses to me as he had every time we went out. He complimented me on how beautiful the cardigan looked on me. If it was possible it made me like him a bit more, even like the cardigan a bit more.
He was such a great guy, the times he and I spent together were fun, memorable. It seemed that the good feelings between us had somewhat transferred to how I felt about the cardigan.
Fast forward.
My eldest daughter saw the cardigan in my closet, one day, really liked it. Earlier I had loaned it to another girl who hadn't been very careful with it. Some of the threads in the back had been burned by a cigarette while she had it. I wanted it to be perfect for my daughter
After asking around a bit, a lady whom I knew to be a master at crochet, agreed to repair it for me. She did such a great job it looked just as pristine as it did the day that I bought it.
My eldest daughter began wearing the cardigan a lot. As something that sometimes happens, she regarded it as hers. It was time for me to let go of the cardigan along with the memories I attached to it. Letting go of the cardigan, while still keeping the memories in my heart.
My daughter didn't know the circumstance of my longing for the cardigan or the kindness of the BX manager. She, also, never knew about the hot guy I had dated & that I wore the cardigan every time I went out with him. She and I are not on speaking terms, as sometimes happens when adult children no longer need nor care about their parents. It's more about her husbands disrespectful treatment of me than anything. I divorced her father, who was abusive, who had treated me that way, I won't accept it from a SIL.
If she reads my blogs, which I doubt she does, she will see the circumstances plus, what it was that made me feel such fondness for the beautiful, timeless cardigan.
Maybe, someday, she will eventually pass it on, as well.
Recently, while shopping online, on Etsy, I saw it!
An exact match of the beautiful cardigan I had bought so long ago. It's 100% certain that it isn't the one my daughter inherited from me.
Yes, I bought it.
Yes, it's just as beautiful though it was more than $1.00.
With bated breath, I waited for my treasured cardigan to arrive. After it was delivered to my front porch, I took it inside.
With my heart pounding, carefully unwrapping it.
The seller had generously included 2 more pieces with it. This cardigan is just as beautiful as the one I had passed down. Maybe, this one was passed down or will be passed down to someone who fancies it as much as I do. Different reasons, it's also just as elegant, versatile, timeless as the first one was.