“MOM’S CEDAR CHEST’

By

Gerry Niskern

It was a deep, burnished walnut with round, pedestal legs. There were roses and leaves in muted pinks and greens carved along the front. When I was a child, I loved it. But what I really loved was all the treasures I imagined it contained. Then one day I was allowed to discover some of them.
When my sister and I unlocked mom’s cedar chest, along with the heavenly aroma of the cedar wood, memories came tumbling out. On top were two small bathing suits, circa l930’s. We wore the scratchy, wool one piece suits when the mom’s whole family of aunts, uncles and cousins had Sunday picnics down on the Ohio River.
Back then, we complained about having to hold back the vines as my dad helped one of our elderly aunts slowly down the steep, overgrown path to the river bank. We wanted to race ahead and join our cousins in the water. “Always help an old person,” our mother admonished. “Their life is hard!”
The high light of the day was when Uncle Walter, our strong uncle from Russia, swam across the wide Ohio, as his wife, Aunt Annie, ran up and down the rocky bank screaming, “Don’t swim all the way across, you damn fool. You’re just showing off!”
Mom did manage to mention quietly on the way home that. “Of course, it was great fun to watch, but Uncle Walter should respect his family and not worry them.”
Another item we pulled out of the cedar chest was our worn out softball, with stitching half gone. We always protested about trying to catch Sam’s hard balls in our neighborhood game. Unfortunately, Sam was a husky teenager with a toddler’s mind who always forgot which base to run to. When we complained, mom explained “Sam’s your friend. He deserves a chance to play ball too.”
The pale, longing face of a little girl with severe Asthma was always framed in a neighbor’s window watching our fun, winter or summer. There was not much help for Asthma back then. But she had playmates because at least once a week mom would say “go play with Dorothy. She needs friends too.”
There was a message from mom linked to most items we pulled out of the old chest; “Treat everyone with the dignity they deserve as human beings.”
Turns out I was right. Mom’s cedar chest really did contain treasures; word’s to live by all of our lives!