The ceramic bird on the windowsill
Some of the most meaningful things are the ones we hardly notice.
When people think about what they’ll pass on, the list often begins with the obvious things.
Jewelry. A painting. The dining table. Maybe a watch.
They’re the things that look important, so they’re the ones we remember to list.
But imagine a small ceramic bird on the kitchen windowsill.
It’s been there for thirty years. Nobody remembers exactly when it arrived. It’s simply always been there, beside the sink, catching the afternoon light.
One daughter remembers watching her mother wash dishes beneath it. Another remembers knocking it over as a child and being terribly afraid she’d broken it.
Their mother might not think to mention the bird at all.
They sit quietly in the background of our lives, gathering memories without anyone noticing.
That’s what interests me about ordinary belongings.
And when families begin talking about what should happen to those belongings, it can feel uncomfortable to ask. How do you tell someone you’d like to keep the bird without sounding as though you’re asking for an inheritance?
Sometimes the answer is to begin somewhere else. Not with who should receive it, but with its story.
Where did it come from? Why was it kept? What does everyone remember about it?
Perhaps the bird will eventually belong to one person. Perhaps it won’t.
But its story is something the whole family can keep.
Kristiann, Founder of Provenance & You. Is there an object in your family whose story you’d love to know? Tell me about it.