When my grandmother passed away, my mom gave me a few things that belonged to her. One was a a fancy tissue case, which is resting on a framed picture of me and my grandmother, and the other was a Totes reusable shopping bag. It zips and folds into a little pouch, and for months, it stayed all zipped up - I never used it. One day, I decided to take it out and add it to my collection of kroger, trader joes, and wegman's shopping bags. As soon as I unzipped it, I was overwhelmed, and literally knocked backwards by the smell of Channel perfume - my grandmother's very distinct smell. I didn't even have time to process why, but tears just came streaming out of my eyes; it was like she was right in front of me. Now, I use this bag every time I go to the store. I love this bag - it reminds me of how much of a bad-ass my grandmother was in general, but the fact that she was going all green by not using plastic bags at the grocery store before it was even a thing to do, makes me love her even more.
I am grateful for how many secret stories we have in our possessions. No one knows that I think of my grandmother every time I go grocery shopping. I bet I've passed someone in the aisles who is adding up his grocery bill with a pen that someone special gave him. I'm sure I've been in line behind someone who is reminded of the first vacation she went on with her boyfriend or girlfriend as the little souvenir charm on her key chain dangles next to her supermarket savings card. I'm sure we all have things that seem so commonplace to everyone. Except to us.
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