with my grandmother celebrating a milestone birthday the other week, the whole family made a trip to western kansas to celebrate it with her. after meeting up with everyone and enjoying a late lunch, we ended up at my grandma's house to chat. now, ever since i can remember, i loved venturing down into my grandparents basement. when i was younger, i was on a constant search for my dad's childhood baseball cards, which he swore were down there, somewhere. now, as an adult, i go down there just to marvel at the mid century relics still stored down there, paintings, lights, amber colored screens, and radios from another era. i'm sure most grandma's basements are like this, but it takes on a whole new level of amazement when it's from your family, items sometimes identifiable in old family photos.
however this last trip down put things in perspective a bit. like any good museum, the collection is constantly growing and changing, and for the first time, i started noticing items i have memories of, back when they were on the main level. most notably the table i use to eat breakfast at while i watched grandpa play solitaire. items, that to my cousin's kids (the youngest generation in the family), look just as ancient as the old frigidaire did to me.
...and yes, i did look for the baseball cards, and no, i still haven't found them.