Unlike your average consumer, my mom rarely ever just bought "something". Even purely functional items had to have character and in a sense, life. With freedom and financing, her home came alive and evolved into a folklore mecca of hutches, sideboards, wardrobes, hoosiers, book cases, benches, and quilts. As a teenager I would desperately try to entice friends to my house, the RC Willey antithesis, as the location for movie night. The typical response went something like, "I don't want to watch a movie on "the wood!"". Our lone upholstery had been a puffy blue couch that little Jackson had worn out into oblivion. It was replaced with a 19th century wooden church pew that no matter how hard I tried could only remain as comfortable as... well... a church pew.
Throughout the years she would breathe new life into homemade crafts or storied antiques that she had discovered. Like most creative geniuses her decorative spark would fully manifest itself at odd hours. Usually late at night or early in the morning. All the menial tasks of the day kept her from her art. But when free, it would be very typical, while I was trying to fall asleep, to hear her tinkering around, kitchen drawers opening, plastic crinkling, and even a hammer hammering. And like the unique creations she was installing, her tool of choice was not the reliable aluminum Estwing in my Dad's tool box, it was a wobbly wooden antique hammer. With reckless abandon and no regard for 2 x 4's or drywall, that woman would hammer away and hang all manner of objects throughout the house. Preparation and excessive measuring was against the rules. There had to be a certain wildness about it.
Throughout the years she would breathe new life into homemade crafts or storied antiques that she had discovered. Like most creative geniuses her decorative spark would fully manifest itself at odd hours. Usually late at night or early in the morning. All the menial tasks of the day kept her from her art. But when free, it would be very typical, while I was trying to fall asleep, to hear her tinkering around, kitchen drawers opening, plastic crinkling, and even a hammer hammering. And like the unique creations she was installing, her tool of choice was not the reliable aluminum Estwing in my Dad's tool box, it was a wobbly wooden antique hammer. With reckless abandon and no regard for 2 x 4's or drywall, that woman would hammer away and hang all manner of objects throughout the house. Preparation and excessive measuring was against the rules. There had to be a certain wildness about it.
With her gone, all of her belongings exist as tangible reminders of their intangible owner. If they could speak, I am sure we would mourn together because, like me, they have realized that she couldn't have loved them more or given them more meaning. I have been doing some late night creating of my own recently. A few weeks ago I purchased a poster from the Ray LaMontagne concert. I also bought some framing and matting supplies at Roberts Crafts (yes, I actually went into a craft store) and tonight I finally got it all put together. For the finish, I needed a good hammer to nail the hooks to the frame and then hang on the wall. This one happened to be resting in my tool box waiting for some late night action.
It was wobbly and worked just fine.
.
22 comments:
A really lovely comment on your mother as well as the intersection of the self and the material world. The philosopher William James wrote that the self does not end with the physical body. It rather extends into physical practice and interaction with the world. Thus, the self is not just the flesh and blood person or the intangible spirit of a person, but homes, clothes, etc: an insight that seems to me very apt in generally and applicable to those who embrace life, like LuAnn, in particular.
I met your mom once when Amy and I were dating. That was the only time I ever got to see your mom. We didn't get the chance to spend much time with her, as we were visiting Grandma and Grandpa Faylor for a few days and she and your dad stopped by for a few hours one evening. However, even though I only spent those few short hours with her, there are two things that have been stamped in my mind and heart which have made it impossible for me to forget. The first thing is the strong love she had for her children. When she spoke about each of you that night, I felt as though I knew each one of you personally. How did this happen? I don't know. The only thing I can attribute it to was the spirit that testified of her love for each one of her children.
Because of this experience, I was excited to meet you and your siblings at your wedding reception when you were married. I don't expect you to remember me being there, but I couldn't stop thinking about your mom that night, and how she was smiling down upon you.
The second thing I will always remember about your mom is the fact that she was one who carried the spirit with her. This impressed me, as I know of only a couple other women who have the ability to walk into a room and bring an overwhelming supernal presence with them. My mother is another one.
There's so much symbolic meaning to the title of your post. I would feel confident in saying that your mom is also a hammer in spiritual form (a sturdy one of course).
WOW! That brought tears to my eyes. I love your mom!!! I'm so glad you shared that with all of us. Your mom was truely an amazing person! I will always remember your house. I loved it! It totally had LuAnn written all over it. I wish we would have all lived closer growing up. It makes me really sad that none of us really know each other. That is one of my biggest regrets! I have been thinking about it a lot since we have been blogging and keeping in touch. I think we need to plan a family reunion. I know Grandpa talked about it a year ago or so, but nothing ever happened. Maybe we could all meet in St. George.
The real question is how many holes did you make in the wall before hanging the poster? :)
I have a corner cupboard upstairs now, and I thought of (and felt like) Mom as I folded my/her/our quilts just so to fit in there. I know that in the end "things" are merely "things," but in the meantime I also draw comfort from the tangible, to try and bring her inside my house and to my boys.
I miss her.
What awesome comments along with such a beautiful post about your mother! I have to say that I just absolutely adore your mother! I was lucky enough to spend good times with her while living with Gma and Gpa Faylor while Ryan and I were engaged. I remember distinctly LOVING her decor! To me, it was a home. There was so much feeling of love and comfort. Everyone was always welcome.
My everlasting picture of your mother is her in her overalls and for some reason hoop earrings...did she wear hoop earrings, or am I imagining that? That along with her laughter and constant smile.
Every once and a while, I would get a surprise visit from your mom as she would stop at Macey's where I worked the night shift stocking shelves. She was there VERY early, and I think of that every once in a while...mainly because I am not really a morning person. Just because I am awake, doesn't mean I am presentable to be in public! Your mom rocked and I agree...we need a reunion. I would like to see some of those "Snyder Awards" that your mom and Dad would put together at the "Green House". I am sure you could help the ledgend live on!
snydely: thanks for the quoute. it is definitely true.
mikey: thanks for the thoughts and insights. i do actually remember meeting you at the reception. i am glad we are re-connecting via blog land.
amy: let's get planning. I am there. thanks for the thoughts.
kalex: no extra holes... just one and it has a nail in it:)
shannon: no imagining. BIG hoop earings and we'll plan something for sure.
great post. it really makes me miss your mom. even though we didn't get to meet, often I find myself missing her. I hope that's okay. Way to make me cry in the library.
The poster looks great. At first I thought it was something you paid a lot of money for at something expensive trendy store... like anthro?
Oh Trav. Who knew you had such a talent for expressing your thoughts and feelings. It was so touching and personal and made me feel like I almost knew your mom. You talent is a gift. Cherish and use it.
trav..
i wish i had known your mom. she sounds awesome. i have loved learning more about her over the years of our friendship. great post. great story... and great poster.
:)
this is a very nice post.
I'm so sorry she is gone.
grateful she gave life to so many things- you, kate and jack for my sake; and those "tangible" things of daily living, like hammers and quilts, for yours.
you're a good man.
Your mom was truely an amazing woman, and I miss her. Both my sisters have said most of what I was thinking. I think of her in her overalls too! I loved visiting your house growing up. There was so much character, and your mom would have a story for every piece of furniture.
One of my best memories of your mom was that every time we came to your house she had some fresh baked cookies. Her chocolate chip cookies were amazing! I would always ask my mom to make them like hers. Now as an adult I still try to to get mine as good as hers...never works!
I would absolutely be there for the reunion too!! Some of my fondest childhood memories are of our "Green House" reunions. I would love for our kids to experience that.
whit: I can't afford anthro plus the workers there are kind of snobby:)sorry for the tears.
bri: yes i am sensitive. who knew?
ash: the poster is also great because it is also tied to a connors memory.
john: coming from one of the best, I'll take "a good man" comment anyday.
jenny: unfortunately those cookies are not reproducable. many have tried but they are never quite the same. I think she had some top secret ingredient she stuck in there that no one knew about.
I shouldn't respond like this was my blog, but I'm going to...
thanks for the wonderful comments. I told Travis today that both his entry and the comments have made my mom feel more present, which has been lovely and sad at the same time.
Cousins...when is the reunion? We're there! :)
Whitney...you're too sweet...and, again, that's not an effort to get a discount. :)
Jenny...I recreated her chocolate chip cookies ONCE. Wish I could do it again...
Conners...my mom would love you guys. And Travis is definitely my mother's son, so you're pretty close to knowing her actually.
It was really fun to see how happy this whole project made you. And I love seeing that hammer laying around our house. I'm sad I never met her. I'm sad I never got to go antiquing, eat her cookies, or have a nice long chat. I'm happy that you and everyone else share their memories of her.
i read this post in my google reader right after you wrote and havn't known what to say. it is just so lovely. i only met your mom a few times but when i think of her i think of all the beautiful "things" she collected around your house as well. she seemed to love things with meaning. very good.
Trav, thanks for this.
Goose-Man,
Your way with words and astounding alliteration are an art form unto themselves!
As I read your post I was taken back to the basement flat of Guy and Emily's bed and breakfast in Hereford to the day when you struggled fo find expression in words for the battle that you had fought physically to complete the Vineman with its very "serpentine" roads, while at that very moment in time you were fighting an extremely exacting emotional battle as you tried to confront the reality of your Mom's illness. I came to know her, and you, through your expressions of love for her and your demonstration of your love for the Lord, and gained three dear friends from the experience. I have only 2 letters set aside from my mission that are not from my immediate family, one from you and one from your amazing mom.
Thanks for the link to your blog, and the reminder about the simple and sacred symbols of love that surround us.
Life is good....yeeeh, yee!
Sorry to respond late to this. I, like Whitney, read this in a public place and got emotional. It's nice to have you guys bring her up sometimes because my memories are fuzzier and less concrete than yours. It makes me sad sometimes but I love this post, That hammer is in the background of many of my mom memories, especially because every time i need a hammer (which admittedly is not that often) i always yearn for the antique LuAnn hammer. . Funny thing is I believe I used to channel the LuAnn spirit in a late night room re-decorate project and of course the hammer was always part of that.
I'm really late with a comment, but I treasure Travis's original blog as well as everyone's responses to it. They (and the hammer) make present an absence that I always feel, especially at this time of year. Many thanks to everyone.
Travis, you are a good man! Reading this brought back alot of old memories and made a serious impact on me...Thanks buddy.
Matt Warnick
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