My Grandma’s Milking Stool

It will be 10 years this November since my grandma passed away. I remember the day she asked me to come close and told me to go find something to keep. To remember her by.

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She had lung cancer. Some days were good, some days were really bad. This was during a good time. I was seventeen, and my naïve brain didn’t want to accept the fact that one day, she wouldn’t be here.

I told her no and brushed off her request like she was being silly. But she looked at me sternly and asked me again. I knew better than to mess with her when she had that look in her eye. She knew. And I knew.

So, I went into the play room and picked her old milking stool. I showed her, and she smiled and nodded.

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I have very fond memories of using this stool. Sharing a huge meal with my cousins at the kitchen table. Bringing it into the family room and watching America’s Funniest Home Videos every Sunday evening. Playing fortune teller (???) with a big, blue rubber ball illuminated by grandpa’s flashlight.

My grandma grew up on a farm in Indiana and I know she used this as a milking stool.

She moved to Chicago and later met my grandpa. I never got to ask her much about the piece, or maybe I did but forget, and of course now I wish I did.  It must have held some great memories for her if she lugged the clunky stool all the way to the city.

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I’ve always known this stool to be brown. I added the turquoise as a teen and promptly stopped. I started to sand the top, and uncovered a layer or purple, and then white, and then wood. I decided not to do anything with it until I KNEW what I wanted to do with it.

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I have no problem with painting wood. I often give my dad a hard time because he does. ;)

I originally thought I would give the stool some chalk paint love.

But the more I think about that option, the more if feels wrong. I know the history of this piece and I want to see it. This isn’t something I picked up at a garage sale. It is part of my history.

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I want to uncover these deep layers. Get it down to the bare wood but leave some traces of paint behind. Sand it down and apply a matte glaze to seal it all in and keep it there.

Let the history and years of use (and love) shine through.

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Do you have an old piece that you love?

A piece that tells a story and is a part of your history?

Comments

  1. YOur moma says

    I remember at one time it was purple in my moms room, with glitter added to the paint…..I too wish I knew the history of that stool, I always remember it in my childhood home in my moms room or the toy room. I tried asking grandpa about it, and he got all mad at me, why would I need to know….so sad to say, the history is gone. He said things like no I do not want it…..I don’t remember it, and my favorite, why did she go and get that, its ugly? I am sad to say….unless one of my siblings know….I do not know the history.

  2. says

    I have an old, wooden, rocking, duck that was my father-in-laws (Papa’s) when he was a toddler. I do not have it displayed right now, but we have in the past. I should ask him the history behind it before it is to late.

  3. Patsy says

    I love that you want to leave some traces of paint behind and then seal it. Those various colors tell a story in themselves.

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