My Grandmother's Buttons
Posted: Monday, August 09, 2010
by Dianne Lehmann
Artisan Jewelry from SyZyGy
Just the other day while looking online for jewelry-making inspirations, I ran across a cuff bracelet with vintage clothing buttons set en cabochon into it. It got me to thinking about an old coffee can full of buttons my grandmother had collected over the years. It also got me to thinking about all sorts of other things. A cascade of thought to match the cascade of water running off our roof during a recent Monsoon thunder storm.
There are a few things that survived my grandmother's demise. My sister and I have some of her furniture. I have a couple items of clothing that are unbelievably old and still in one piece. My sister and I share a collection of photographs of people and places we can not put names to. In some of the pictures, Grandma is wearing the articles of clothing that I possess along with a hat that hugged her head like a helmet and a fox fur-piece around her neck. And I have that old coffee can full of buttons. Buttons that were snipped off of clothing too worn out to be of any use anymore. Buttons that were found while taking walks or traded with friends. Shank buttons. Two-hole buttons. Four-hole buttons. Buttons with rhinestones set in them. Buttons made of real shell, fake shell and metal. Bakelite buttons, cellulose buttons; all manner of buttons in all sorts of colors.
My dad's mom, the Grandmother of whom I am writing, was born on an Indian trading post in South Dakota in 1894 to German immigrant parents. She ended her life in a convalescent hospital in the city of Orange in Southern California in 1983. Oh, the changes she saw. The stories she told. Some true and some not. Just think of all the journeys she took to get from South Dakota to Iowa to California , many of them marked by the buttons she collected.
When we had to move her from her apartment to an assisted living arrangement, the room she was provided was small and contained a bed and a built in desk. She was not permitted much in the way of private belongings. So we moved her in with her leather-topped drum table, two favorite chairs, a small lamp, her jewelry box full of old costume jewelry and that can of buttons. I thought they needed to remain with her. Little by little, the costume jewelry disappeared, but not one of the caretakers touched the buttons.
Then, when we had to move her from there to the convalescent hospital (a long string of transient ischemic attacks put her care outside of what they could cope with at the assisted living establishment), the can of buttons went home with me. My sister took the drum table and other pieces of furniture. For some reason, the thought of those buttons in someone else's hands was not something I could tolerate.
If she were still living, she could probably tell me the story behind each of those buttons. I wish I had asked when she could still answer. I wish I thought that I would have listened had she thought to tell me unasked. Life is full of little regrets. The thing is not to let them get the better of you. Let them be teachers so that as you continue on, you don't make the same sorts of mistakes.
When I was younger, I thought the reminiscences of elders were pointless. Just memories of days gone by with no further relevance. The past is past. But as I've gotten older (not quite elder yet) myself, I realize that they are more than that. They are the bedrock of what makes us who we are. Today, when an elder wants to tell me a story of the past, I'm flattered and I listen. We all, even me, grow up eventually.
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More commentshi diane,loved this article.i have trinkets-mostly pins and some buttons of my mother's and grandmother's, and i have them lining my computer table so i see them all the time.they make me feel close to them, and i hope when i leave this world, someone will find them interesting enough to take for themselves.thanks for sharing,my best,sueHi Sue.You've reminded me that I also have a few pieces of Grandma's better jewelry ... a couple cameos, a pin and a pendant from her days in the Red Cross, and other small items. These live in the back of my jewelry box and I really should take them out more. I was the same way with my dolls as a child. They sat on a high shelf and I never took them down and played with them for fear of damaging them. Silly me.Thank you for reading.Hugs,Dianne
This was a lovely story Dianne. I can relate. My grandmother had a button jar as did my mother. But they both sewed. I have a button jar which I add to periodically but since I don't sew, (except for the rare reattaching of a button) I seldom use the jar. But funny, I don't get rid of it. Doesn't every household have a button jar? :) I agree with you about listening to elders tell their stories. I've sat and listened for hours. Often their story will begin with, "If I've told you this before, stop me, " although I never do. It's not always so much about the story they tell, but the emotion they express when telling it. I hope there are people who are willing to listen to us Dianne when we're that age. Thanks for a nice story and making me stop to remember my grandmother today.Hi Brianna.We're already story tellers, though, aren't we. :) But I do understand what you mean. So much of society is centered, these days, around youth that a distinct devaluing of our elders has become the norm. It's sad.I've actually run into people who do not have a button jar. Hard to believe, I know. I don't really sew much either, but I've changed out a set of buttons on a sweater or blouse just because I liked the look of Grandma's buttons better. How wonderful to be able to do that.We don't have any kids, so I'll will have to be sure to find someone to whom to bequeath that can of buttons.Thank you so much for reading and for adding your lovely comment.Hugs,Dianne
Very nice Dianne.Hi e.Thanks so much!Hugs,Dianne
Great article Dianne! It makes me wish that I had kept a lot of "junk" left by relatives. It also makes me wish I had your story telling powers.Hi Bob.I've kept a lot of "junk" from my mom and dad and grandparents, but I've also "passed on" (Goodwill and the like) quite a bit of stuff. There are some things that just mean more to me than others. Luckily, I haven't found cause to regret the things I've given away.As for wishing you had my story telling powers ... whaddaya talkin' about?! But thanks.Hugs,Dianne
Stories from older generations are the greatest. You even learn some history in most of the stories. My grandmother (deceased) used to tell us stories of her past.Hi James.What better way to learn about what life was like before we were born. And to be able to hear it from the people who lived it is priceless.Thanks for reading and for commenting.Dianne
Dianne, the fact that you appreciate such a ordinary item is a tribute to your ability to see the depth of treasures and value.Hi Bing.What an absolutely generous thing to say! Especially from someone who has a most wonderful sense of what's valuable. I just wish this ability didn't work best in hindsight. :)Thanks so much, Bing, for reading and commenting.Hugs,Dianne
Funny I should come across your article today. I was with my granddaughter and we were straightening my sewing box and adding buttons to my button can It even has buttons that belong to my family members. She had such fun learning about the buttons and discovering the old odd ones especially. Thanks for sharing a part of your grandmother with us.Hi Linda.It's wonderful to hear that the tradition is still alive and well. We can call it a tradition, can't we?I bet the two of you had a great time!Thanks for reading and commenting.My best to you,Dianne
Your story brought back memories. My great aunt worked in a button factory in NYC. I always loved looking at the many different buttons she had. I always think of her when I look at my own collection of 'just in case' buttons. Some of them probably came from her.Hi Val.I think it might be great fun to work in a button factory.Did you ever play with a button spinner? My sister and I would take the largest four-hole or two-hole button we could find and thread a long piece of string through two holes directly opposite each other. Then tie the string into a big loop. Loop the ends over a finger of each hand and spin the button around in a motion away from your body to wind up the string. Then repeatedly pull the two ends apart and release the tension to set the button spinning. Sometimes you could get it to moving so fast that it would hum. Believe it or not, as a kid I thought that was a lot of fun.Thanks so much for reading and for sharing a bit of your button memories.Dianne
Dear Dianne, what a heart-warming story. It made me think of my gran (who also used to keep a jar of buttons). I remember that playing in her jewellery box was one of my favourite things to do when visiting as a little girl. And yes, stories that the wise have to share are warm and thought-provoking. Here's to tales from the past.Hi WWL.A while back, I started a memoir (as if anyone would want to read it :) but mostly it is just for me) and I thought I might add this memory to it. But I would have to change it significantly because I made it part of my weekly column and exclusive to SearchWarp. So we'll see.Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.Dianne
Very nice one ma'am! Keep writing wonderful stories....Hi Chiradeep.Thanks so much and I'll do my best!Dianne
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