The Silver Teapot (Part 1)
During one of my recent de-cluttering efforts, I noticed a cardboard box that I must have passed a hundred times. I was nearing the end of my self-allotted half hour when I spied the box. It was not a very big box and obviously old, tatty and somehow rumpled-looking, as old cardboard can be.
Opening the box, I discovered crumpled newspaper wrapped around several hard objects. Selecting one at random, I peeled back the newspaper and stared in surprise. In my hands I held a silver teapot. It was black with tarnish, almost unrecognizable as silver, and I had never seen it before. Where had this come from? Curious, I dug the rest of the objects out of the box, unwrapping them as I went. There were about eight pieces, all in the same dismal condition. Examining the discarded newspaper wrappings, I discovered that they were from the Halifax Herald and the date was 1982. Forty years ago.
Now seriously puzzled, I rewrapped all the other pieces, putting them carefully back in the box, and carried the teapot upstairs and set it on my kitchen counter. It was obvious that I would have to try cleaning it – in its current state, the teapot was ugly: angular in shape, short and squat, and somehow sad.
Digging out my cleaning things (I clean my own silver, if somewhat grudgingly), I set to work. If you’ve ever cleaned badly tarnished silver, you will know it isn’t a job for the faint of heart. As I rubbed in the polish, let it dry, and then buffed it off, cleaning one small area at a time, I mulled over the teapot’s possible history. Obviously the newspaper’s date was a clue. The box had to have come from my parents, as I had inherited many of their possessions when my widowed mother had had a stroke, and we had sold their apartment. But that had been 1997, not 1982. What had happened in 1982? After some thought, all the while polishing the silver teapot, I realized that this must have been the year my dad had retired, and my parents moved from our house to the apartment.
Obviously they would have had less room, but why would my mother, who loved fine things, not have unpacked these pieces? She, of all people, would know that silver doesn’t do well loosely wrapped in newspaper and left in a cardboard box. Had the box been overlooked? But if they were Mum’s, surely she would have looked for and found them? She was proud of her possessions and liked to have them on display; not only that, but she took care of them. This was probably the most neglected teapot I had ever seen. So, I was missing something.