#david aft

[amberlnagle]

Someone Else's Keepsake

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Today, I welcome guest blogger and buddy, David Aft, who wanted to surprise his lovely wife with a special gift and a story on this day of love. David sent his story to me last week and asked that I wait and post it today. Happy Valentine's Day, Pauli Aft!

Enjoy David's story titled, "Someone Else's Keepsake."

From time to time the spirits who look after the weather issue a perfect mid-winter day.  Sunshine animates the crisp air and a little breeze reminds you that it’s not quite spring.

It was on just such a morning that I noticed a garage sale at a small house near my office.  The purveyors were busily answering questions and collecting a dollar here, fifty cents there and generally making good-natured small talk.

One of them told me the house had belonged to his sister, who had recently passed away after a long struggle with dementia.  Hundreds of pieces of her estate were gently organized in the open carport and driveway.  As I surveyed the diverse offerings, I thought about the things we accumulate in our lives.  We accumulate experience, knowledge, insight and perhaps even a little wisdom.  We also accumulate a host of worldly goods that survive us as a collection of artifacts—a modest Rosetta stone of our earthly lives.

This notion added depth and a certain poignancy to the sale, and for a moment, I was not looking at a collection of knick-knacks and lightly used kitchen ware, but a final testament.

Amidst the sprawl, a short set of metal shelves held about forty smaller items.  These seemed a little more personal and a couple of them caught my attention.  A small brass replica of the Eiffel Tower peeked out from behind a very interesting lucite paperweight from the seventies.  I asked the gentlemen working the sale about the tower, and he looked at it and told me he remembered it was special to his sister, but he didn’t know or recall why.

My imagination raced just a little, as I pictured a young woman looking at the miniature and dreaming of going to Paris.  Maybe someone had given it to her as a souvenir from a memorable week visiting outdoor cafes and museums.  Maybe it was her keepsake, a memento of a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

These thoughts were quickly followed by an abrupt realization that those stories would never be told, as they were the provenance of a woman whose memories had left her long before her quiet demise.

I stood there and realized I was surrounded by a sea of keepsakes, de-tethered from the memories that made them special—once again, empty vessels perhaps waiting to be given root in a new imagination.

I have a friend and fellow garage sale enthusiast who told me some things are just not meant to end up in the junk pile, and I think I agree with her—sometimes a keepsake can be repurposed, with its own story and pedigree enriched by another chapter.

I purchased the tiny tower, along with the lucite paperweight from the Seventies.  I plan to keep the lucite piece at my office and give the Eiffel Tower to my beautiful wife on Valentine’s Day as a reminder of our spectacular and romantic trip to Paris a couple of years ago.  They will each enjoy life anew and join the family of keepsakes that accent our story and become, all too briefly, the keepers of our own memories.

—David Aft, February 2016 (for his wife, Pauline)

Thanks for the blog post, David. And again, Happy Valentine's Day Project Keepsake readers. Keep those stories coming, and remember, everyone has a keepsake, and every keepsake has a story to tell.

[amberlnagle]

Friends and Signet Rings

David Aft has been a helpful, generous friend since 2001 when we first worked together at a large nonprofit organization in Northwest Georgia. We’ve always had chemistry and rapport, especially evident in our social and political views and opinions.

Go back in time with me to the week after I told David about my idea to collect and publish stories about keepsakes. He stood in front of my desk and read his keepsake story aloud to me as if he was delivering a soliloquy from Hamlet. He wrote a story about an heirloom—his grandfather’s signet ring. He keeps it safely stowed in a safe deposit box, but he showed it to me on the day he read me his story.

But writing and giving me his story was just the beginning. He was determined to help me achieve my dream of publishing a book of keepsake stories, and so he twisted the arms of many family members and friends and somehow convinced others to contribute stories to my collection, too. I’m not sure how he shook them down, but he did. I got beautifully-crafted stories from his parents. From Tom Durkan. From Joanne and Marvin Lewis. And from his wife, Pauline, who wrote a haunting, retrospective story about a pill box hat. I will feature excerpts from all of these stories in the future, but today, I give you an excerpt from David Aft’s story, “The Signet Ring.”

"The ring is simple and elegant, far different from my memories of Grandpa Harry, whose 6-foot 3-inch frame never projected either elegance or simplicity. I learned that the ring was a gift from his father, a modest immigrant from Eastern Europe who brought little but his faith from the Urals in 1908. According to family folklore, the ring was a present on my grandfather’s eighteenth birthday. I imagine that the ring was acquired at significant sacrifice, as my grandfather turned eighteen at the height of the Great Depression. I cherish the ring. I look at it often, although I almost never wear it. I think at some level we all struggle with finding authenticity in our lives—a meaning that transcends the day-to-day stuff and gives us an emotional and historical touchstone. My personal quest probably won’t end with my grandfather’s signet ring, but there is a gentle certainty in knowing that other than DNA, his ring is probably the only other thing in this world that my great grandfather, grandfather, father and I have shared—have touched. My son and hopefully his son will eventually share this memento and, through its modest presence, understand that they are part of something that is larger than themselves. They will never know Harry Aft, nor will his ring ever convey his towering presence, steadfast work ethic or penchant for corny jokes. They will never understand his love of baseball and passion for fresh-squeezed orange juice. What I hope they will understand is that we value his life and understand its relation to our own. Further, I hope they understand that it is not merely the links that make a chain strong, but their interconnectedness that gives them permanence. Harry’s signet ring is my link. "  — David Aft from Project Keepsake

But there’s more to the story. David and his wife have opened a new business, Dave & Pauli’s Art Emporium (www.daveandpaulis.com) — a working artist’s studio and art gallery specializing in creative works by local and regional artists in downtown Dalton. It’s open on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

Just a few days before opening the doors, they toured me through the gallery as if I was a member of royalty. The gallery explodes with bold, vibrant colors and interesting works, almost as if it is a living, breathing being pulsing with creativity. Upstairs, they’ve created an intimate music lounge like none other in Northwest Georgia. I was captivated.

I glanced at the counter and saw something familiar—something blue and book-like. Indeed, Dave & Pauli’s is the only place in Dalton offering signed copies of Project Keepsake. I am honored.

Thank you David, and thank you Pauline. You are great friends—real keepers—and I wish you every success with Dave & Pauli’s Art Emporium and in the other endeavors that fill your life from this day forward.