I was doing my wash the other day at my brother’s house, and for whatever reason my eyes set upon a previously unnoticed shelf in the basement. That shelf contained the various dinner service sets that my mother bought and put into storage back in the 1960s, when my brother and I were growing up. I recall her saying to my father that this tableware cache was not simply a reserve for the occasional dropped plate or lost spoon in the house. No, this was a dream for the future, when my brother and I would be grown up and married and have our own houses and families. Mom wanted to help us and our future spouses to “get started” with our own family nests, by contributing a variety of plates and cups and cutlery.

Well, that dream never came to fruition. I got married in 1985, but it didn’t last long enough to involve a house and kids. The ex and I bought some dinnerware on our own during the engagement, which wound up in my corner after the divorce settlement. So I didn’t need to borrow anything from the old homestead, after all. As to my brother, he never left that old homestead, having never married or had kids. And he doesn’t need much for his present kitchen (my parents weren’t affluent enough to afford a house with a separate dining room — just as well, AFAIAC), as he usually eats out or nibbles on take-out or pre-packaged meals at home.

So, Mom’s Norman Rockwell dream of sitting at the head of a big family holiday table garnished with the placement settings that she wisely invested in never came to pass. The flatware and earthenware sets still sit on a shelf gathering dust, awaiting a call to family duty that never came. Well, who knows — perhaps one day my brother will find a young struggling couple who could make good use of this stuff. I hope that happens someday. For now, though, we still have the dreams that Mom had when she was our present age (actually a bit younger!) to ponder, just gathering dust on a shelf near the washer and drier.