A while back someone wrote to me and said she had some fabric from her parents house. She said it was mostly aprons from her mother and ties from her father. Inside the box that came in the mail were a few aprons, lots of ties and a note. There were two aprons with red, white and blues one big the other small. The note said they were mother and daughter aprons and that they had plastic rings in them that made it easy to slip them on and off.
It’s interesting what we remember and what memories we have the desire to keep alive and pass along. The uniqueness of the plastic rings and the ease with which they were able to be used made these aprons memorable. I imagine it’s in the feel of the plastic around the waist or in the hands that triggers the memory.
When I was in training for my work with developmentally disable adults one of the exercises we did was to wear thick gloves and a blind fold and try to navigate our way around a room. I learned that when you can’t see, the sense of touch becomes all important. Just think about getting up at night and feeling your way to the bathroom in the dark. You rely on knowing the space and your hands feeling the familiar texture and shape of furniture or a doorway. When we can see, the sense of touch is seemingly less important, but I imagine it has an impact on us in ways we’re barely aware of.
