Kenny and I spent a large portion of yesterday with my Mother. It made for an enjoyable, relaxing day. We got up, showered, dressed and leisurely headed to over to see Izzy on the square at Bluebonnet Antiques. My Mother, along with the others who lease space in this building, “keeps” the store twice a month. The kids usually like visiting Bluebonnet-there is always plenty to see, but mostly because it sits next door to King’s Candy, an old soda fountain and candy store that has been around this town since my Dad was a boy.

I enjoy visiting my Mother when I can at Bluebonnet; it is a cozy place to be. Like most antique stores, it is overflowing with the past, present, and even the future…some new person’s collections waiting to be found. These old buildings are very much alive with their peeling walls, slightly musty scent, groaning wooden floors and general disarray. Today Kenny and I climbed the creaky old stairs up to the second floor to see what new things my Mother had circulated into her area.

What will we find up here today?

My mother has always had an eye for arranging things beautifully. Unlike many other vendors, she caresses her area into a living space. Things are added, not stacked. Items are placed, not lined-up. There is organization, but in a way that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into your grandmother’s home, not just drove up to a garage sale.


As I peruse, things re-introduce themselves to me – things I remember from my time with Mother and Daddy. There are things in Mother’s booth that have been around as long as I can remember – like the hutch that she uses as a backdrop to dishes, kitchen items and other what-nots.

The Hutch

Or the quilted bears that I remember perched atop a bookshelf in her work room with other stuffed animals – new and old.

Quilted Bears

Sometimes there are things that came after I left home. These things I vaguely remember, but I know they are hers – that they were carefully selected at some point. I know her and therefore I know they must have fit in perfectly somewhere, in one of her homes, decorating her daily life.


Pictures hang on the wall, furniture beckons a memory, mirrors echo a different reflection and lamps wait to shed a new light. All of it arranged in a way that attracts the eye, soothes the soul and reminds me that things are as fleeting as time – and the only things that truly matter are the people all the things stood as a backdrop to through the years.


Relationships are what makes things significant; without my Mother and my Daddy, none of these things would matter.

It is her talent to be able to create beauty around her – in her home and even, at times, in her workplace. It is a gift that the warmth remains, even as the “things” pass into different hands, are taken to be enjoyed by a new family, because the root of all that expressed beauty has not been lost.


Beauty is, after all, in the eye of the beholder.
It is in her eyes, her heart, her mind and her soul.
Where she is, everything will always be beautiful.
As is she.