Ask me to come up with a memory of my grandmother. I instantly think of my grandmother’s marbles. Today I store them in my curio cabinet and there are days when I open the door just to peek at the soft Indian basket with the tight fitting lid that keeps them secure until I hold them again. Sometimes I swirl the closed basket just to bring me back in time to the comfort and joy of my grandmother's house.
I loved that grandma’s house was a place for laughter and games and I especially loved to play with her marbles. I loved to hear them rolling quietly around in the woven container and then pour them out with a crash on the table; Marbles bouncing and racing away from me. It sent a rush through me as I hurriedly tried to recapture all of them and sort them into like groups; all black, stark white, light green, deep green, bright yellow, soft blue, catseyes, etc.
I don’t recall ever going to Grandma’s house and not playing with those marbles, even as an adult. A visit wasn’t complete without a game of Chinese Checkers played at the kitchen table. I loved the way the marbles settled so nicely in the precut circles on the sturdy cardboard gameboard. I savored the quiet intensity as everyone was planning their next move even before their own turn. We were not a quiet family so the quietness of the game was that much more intriguing.
A few years ago Grandma moved from her home of nearly 50 years. Not being one to fuss over things, Grandma offered any family member a chance to take something from her home. I immediately asked if her marbles had been spoken for. And like I knew she would, she laughed out loud and questioned my choice. “You want my marbles? I sure didn’t see that coming. You really want my marbles? They’re all yours.” I was completely satisfied and even giddy that I could take such a prized possession from my grandmother’s house to my own house.
Now my children know about their great grandmother’s marbles and they can tell from my marble enthusiasm that I was a kid once too. A kid with fond memories of my grandmother and her simple treasures. My six year old recently reminded my four year old that great grandma’s marbles are really special and longingly followed it up with youthful admiration. “I hope I get something as special as these marbles someday.”
He will.
