I wrote about the spinning wheel that Aunt Eleanor mentioned in her journal. I also mentioned that my mother told me that the spinning wheel was given to a museum and not to one of the greeat-great granddaughters.
My cousin Terry read my post and wrote to tell me that her grandmother had not donated the spinning wheel to a museum. If that were the case, I then imagined that it was given to Aunt Eleanor's eldest granddaughter, Terry's sister, or to her beloved Patti. But Terry said that my mother's sister told Aunt Eleanor to give the spinning wheel to her (Terry). I have to say that I was quite surprised.
It was my mother's belief that her sister was hoping that the spinning wheel would go to my cousin Joy, my aunt's only daughter. I saw my aunt frequently. She rarely mentioned Terry or her siblings so I have not a clue as to why Joyce would name Terry as the recipient over her own daughter.
Terry also wrote to tell me that she thought that the spinning wheel should go to Patti and that Patti would probably send me a picture of it if I asked. Terry was so gracious in suggesting to her grandmother that Patti should have the spinning wheel. However, I am a bit saddened that the story my mother told about the spinning wheel being donated to a museum wasn't actually true.
My great-great grandmother, Guri, had 35 great-great granddaughters, most of whom I expect would have liked to have her spinning wheel. If it were in a museum, the daughters of all of her descendants would have an opportunity to be connected to it.
I remember how excited I was to see the portraits of my great (6) grandparents hanging in the Museum of the City of New York. These portraits were painted in mid 1700s. For years, they hung in the living room of a descendant, Caroline Wells. Fortunately for the thousands of Jacobus and Margrietje's descendants, she never married, was an only child and on her death in 1939 she willed the portraits and some other items belonging to Margrietje to the Museum of the City of New York.
My mother started a business in the late 1960s and acquired three cordboards. By the late 1990s, these cordboards were obsolete. Finding parts and people who could repair them was increasingly more difficult. In 2008, I donated one cordboard to the museum in Tustin, California.
It is hard to imagine that items that are a part of one's life will become obsolete and an object of history. That cordboard was over 60 years old and built when my parents were young adults. My mother ran her business til she died. To me that cordboard represents my mother and an important part of her life. I am glad that it will be preserved as a part of the history of Orange County. I hope her future descendants that visit the museum will derive as much pleasure at seeing the cordboard as I did when I viewed portraits.