I have a quilted green robe.
It feels like silk, but the fabric is probably rayon.
It has hung on a bathroom hook for a long, long time.
It has a history
My mother-in-law gave me this robe as a Christmas gift before our children were born. It came from the Jantzen Company in Portland, Oregon, when American textiles were big business nationwide. In the 1930s, Jantzen was the seventh most recognized trademark.
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Mother Vi
Honey blonde-haired, blue-eyed Viola Helen Beaman was born a second-generation Koethe in Washington state, her father Albert, a German immigrant. A stay-at-home mother of four, Vi Beaman spiced her life with industry:
- She ironed sheets and pressed shirts on a wide-angle ironer, a “thing,” in the 1950s.
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- She made appetizing cakes and pies, which were displayed with recipes on one of the local TV stations. (Her recipes for gumdrops, apple-orange brownies, maple praline cookies and cherry rolls remain in my files.)
- Later, she became astute at wheeling and dealing in real estate, flipping houses with Cliff’s dad Lee before it became a “thing” in recent years.
I met my husband’s mother just days before our wedding. She ooh-ed and aah-ed at the wedding gown I had fashioned by hand. I knew immediately she approved of me but cautioned, “You and Cliff may have quite a time adjusting to married life.” She used the direct approach and didn’t mince words about the huge difference obvious in our backgrounds: Her son was a westerner used to city life, and I, his bride, was an easterner with a rural Mennonite upbringing. I knew she cared about how we would fare.
The elder Beamans, Lee and Vi, visited our home after our daughter Crista was born. Then we flew to Washington with two children, ages 1 ½ and 3. Grandma Beaman loved giving gifts; she knitted caps and sweaters for Crista’s dolls.
We anticipated lots of inter-continental trips, back and forth from east to west. Even with many miles in between, we expected many family gatherings.
But suddenly, Mother Beaman was struck with a serious illness and died in 1975 when she was only fifty-five years old. The heart of the family was gone.
The Robe, a Reflection
Even doing imprecise math, you can tell that this is an old, old robe, but I still have it. I have held onto it for decades.
Why is that?
First of all, it’s in good shape, nearly floor-length and comfy warm when I dash from bedroom to kitchen on a cool morning. “Will it ever wear out?” I wonder.
It’s not in tatters, but I may have replaced it years ago simply because I’ve had it so long. But it came from a special person who no longer lives on this earth. There will be no more gifts from her.
And so I hang on to it.
Inquiring minds want to know . . .
What aged item have you kept because of its sentimental value? Will you pass it along to someone else in the next generation?
Just for fun!
I can see why you’ve held on to the robe, it’s beautiful. I love the color. I have a special afghan crocheted by my grandmother over forty years ago. Although some of the strands of yarn have come unraveled, I don’t think I could ever part with it.
Your afghan keeps you warm in more way than one. I wonder if you’ve ever worked this cherished piece into a story.
Thanks for being the first on board today, Jill!
Great idea, Marian. I have slipped in a few traits of my sweet Mamaw. ❤️
😀
What a sweet story. It’s wonderful that you’ve kept the robe all these years and that it still brings you happiness. I’d forgotten about the Jantzen Company, but do remember their swimsuits from when I was a little girl. Their robes, I don’t remember though.
Yes, Jantzen’s swimsuits were their signature item, before or after sweaters, jackets and robes. Thanks, Ally!
Good morning, Marian! It’s lovely that you cherish this long ago gift from your mother-in-law! Perhaps when it does tatter, something can be made from some of the fabric as a memento. The doll’s clothing your mother-in-law made is so cute!
Just this morning I noticed a fraying spot on a sleeve. So, maybe I’ll need to fashion something else from the fabric. A pillow, maybe? As always, thank you, Merril!
Lovely remembrance of an incredible Mother Vi. There are three robes in my house. One was purchased at a garage sale 30 years ago. One arrived in a box of spa goodies after I won a contest in an airline magazine 20 years ago. I am wearing the third, my Christmas present from my daughter this year (we exchanged gifts early). A robe is a wonderful way to remember someone, since it encloses you in a perpetual hug. I hope you keep that robe always, along with this blog post.
You remind me that I need to take at least one of my two other robes (still useful) to Gift and Thrift so that someone new can be warmed inside them. The other will hang in the guest bedroom, just in case.
Three different robes, and three different destinations, Shirley. I feel happy that one of your robes will enclose someone else in a perpetual hug via the Gift and Thrift shop. Thanks for your thoughts here and the cozy idea of s perpetual hug as another way to “hygge” in this cold season.
You have such a wonderful grasp of history, Marian. No wonder you kept that robe. I wish I had something that nice to say, “This was given to me decades ago.” Clothes from decades ago are either rags or have been given away because I could no longer fit them!
Thanks for the compliment, Marie. This robe is very loose-fitting and forgiving of weight-gain. I was a lot thinner when the robe was gifted to me, but the robe still fits – Hallelujah!
I love your green robe and I am guessing it is early 60s: it reminds me of what my Mum and her sisters used to wear when I was little. I think it is lovely that you kept it all this time because it was a gift from your sweet mother-in-law. So sad she was taken so soon! I am 55 now and I feel a I still have a lot to do in this life.
We have kept pieces of furniture and pottery in storage and I love my old food tins from the mid 80s which I bought for my first flat: I just can’t part with them and they are very practical in the motorhome as they are light and pack easily and I use them daily. 👍
Yes, age 55 is very young, and we felt the same way when Cliff’s mum died in 1975. She had a lot of living yet to do, we thought.
I’m glad you can re-purpose food tins that carry a bit of nostalgia. And those pieces of furniture and pottery will come in handy some day too. Thanks, Fatima!
Another beautiful story as I sip my morning coffee. Thank you. I think this story is about mother-in-laws. I loved my mother-in-law. She wasn’t domestic in any sense of the word but she passed on so many life qualities to me that I now treasure. I loved her calm, unassuming nature. She accepted everyone as they were while showing compassion when needed. She was a very generous person. I enjoy meeting a woman who has a good relationship with their mother-in-law. There is so much to learn from the person who raised our husbands. I am sorry you lost your mother-in-law when you were so young but her life remains with you in the form of the beautiful green robe. So very appropriate. Hang on to it and treasure it.
Thank you, Jane, for your reflection on mothers-in-law. A calm, unassuming nature stands out these days amidst the pace and noise of daily life. I’m sure you can see qualties of this woman in your husband. Mine “inherited” a strong work ethic and sense of integrity for sure.
Yes, I will hang on to this robe and perhaps re-purpose it when it becomes too tattered to wear, as one reader suggested.
I love the sentimentality (in a good way) of this keepsake and this post. I’m amazed you’ve kept it all these years, but why not. I think I would have too, if I had been blessed with a robe from my mother-in-law. I never had the privilege of knowing her–she died while Stuart was still in high school, in her late 50s. He was still mourning her when we met and I certainly wished to have known her. I do have a dish or two of hers, and a precious rolling pin.
The photo of Cliff’s mother is fascinating–they look a good deal alike!
I’m glad this post jogged memories of your mother-in-law whom I suspect was a good cook and housekeeper. And Stuart married a woman who knows her way around the kitchen, even publishing cookbooks!
Cliff looks like his mother, including the deepset eyes. When we went to Ukraine a few years ago, some remarked to him, “You don’t look like an American.” I read ths subtext as “You look German.” When we visited a war memorial I noted that Germans had killed thousands of Ukrainians in the last century. I think they “forgave” Cliff his looks after he donated performances 17 to public schools and 2 to churches near Kiev.
I have a scarred and marked little coffee table that my parents kept in the living room. It is from the mid-forties and I recall scooting in underneath on the little shelf when just a toddler. I also have a small round table that we always called “the drum table” because it has two levels with a line of spindles separating the two levels. The third thing have is my dad’s old Chamois shirt, frayed at cuffs and collar, and washed out. But I remember him wearing it on many cool days and have pictures of him working in the yard wearing it. When it’s over my shoulders it’s like I can feel him giving me a hug. He’s been gone 6 years now; heaven knows that Chamois shirt is easily three times that in age.
How wonderful to have clear recall of these tables linked to your early life. I think I can visualize the drum table. When you mentioned your dad’s old Chamois shirt, I thought of a large cloth we used to wipe clean our car’s windshield. I always thought the cloth came from deer skin, but when I looked it up today I found a reference to an anteloupe. Of course, you’ll hang onto that Chamois shirt, maybe frayed at the edges but still able to give you a “hug.” Thanks, Ginger!
Marian — What a lovely story. After my mom died I kept her robe in one of those giant zip-lock bags because it had her scent. I would smell it every so often (especially when I was mising her) and it would bring her right back to me. I no longer have it (it eventually lost her scent). But I have her hand-written recipe cards that I use on a regular basis.
Thanks for sharing some sweet, intimate thought of your mom, Laurie. You probably know that the sense of smell is one of the most immediate of our senses, bypassing the brain and going directly to one’s emotions. I’ll glad you still have her hand-written recipes, the legacy of many a daughter, I’m guessing.
I Have a crib blanket my grandma stitched for her first grandchild, our daughter. It’s in the TV room covering two special dolls. She hand embroidered the squares, a labor of love.
What a special memento. Embroidery is something of a dying art these days, although I remember our daughter stitching a design on a lamp doily. That crib blanket will probably last a long time if it’s covering dolls, not people – ha! Thanks, Elfrieda.
That should be her first great grandchild
🙂
Marian, so amazing to see that beautiful robe. This is a wonderful reminder of your relationship with Mom. Can I have a copy of the cherry rolls…perhaps a picture of the recipe?
Yes, Kathy. The recipe is a handwritten one, but I’ll write it out here in case others are curious:
Pull-Apart Cherry Roll
1 – 8oz. jar maraschino cherries (drain well by using a colander and then dab with paper towel.)
5 cherries cut in half – the rest cut in pieces.
Place 10 halves of cherries around a ring mold.
Then melt and bring to full boil 1/4 cup butter + 1/2 cup of brown sugar. Pour this over the cherries.
Sprinkle chopped cherries over syrup. Put in chopped pecans or other nuts.
Place biscuits on side over other mixture.
Bake 25 minutes at 425 degrees. I’ll send a photo of original recipe as well.
Thanks, Marian !
Thank you for posting this, dear writer wife. I too miss my Mom. She was happiest when she was baking, sewing clothes (when two sisters Joyce and Kathy were young she would make dresses out of flour sacks), crocheting, wheeling and dealing, or listening to Strauss waltzes. Thank you for wearing a woven memory of her. It still shows its craftsmanship after all of these years.
You have a ring-side seat watching the evolution of this gift into a family heirloom. Thank you for mentioning Strauss waltzes, a sign that your mother has passed on her love of lyrical music to you. 🙂
A lovely, really sweet post this morning, Marian, even before the cherry pullaparts recipe. And thank you for that Janzen company memory. They were my go to bathing suits “back in the day.” But line Ally, I wasn’t aware they offered robes. I was wondering what I had in a similar vein as your robe and was coming up blank until I read Laurie’s comment. I too have recipe cards, mine in the handwriting of my first MIL (a proudly traditional housewife) and my grandmother (a pediatric ICU nurse). All of the cookies I made last week were from one or the other. I find I remember someone fondly when cooking from the recipe card they wrote especially for me. Thanks for this bit of nostalgia. As I’m camping out at my younger sons’ home this week, I can’t help but wonder what nostalgic memory of me will waft 30 years from now.
You have your mind/heart firmly planted in the present, savoring the nostalgia of the past and forward to the next generation. Right now I think you are making memories (and snapping photos) of Kendall in her starring role. Wow!
Yes, I like handwritten recipes too. Maybe it’s a stretch to thing the dish tastes better with a recipe in pencil or ink. It strikes me that your grandmother was a woman ahead of her time, perhaps, with a nurse specialty, the pediatric ICU. So thankful for that, a lifesaver for one of our grandsons. 🙂
You have such wonderful stories, Marian. Your love and appreciation for all of your family members is so special. Having just downsized for the 2nd time, there is little left except for a beautiful,l hand carved wooden Hansel and Gretel House that my father brought back from Germany for me after the war. One day it will go to my Granddaughter.
The Hansel and Gretel House is already an antique and will become even more valuable as it’s handed down. Like you, I’ve given away a boat-load of stuff, and I don’t miss a thing I’ve given away.
Good to hear from you, Joan. This is the lull before the publishing/marketing storm that will come next year. You know what that’s like!
Now that is a special robe, Marian. The color, the fabric, the history, the memories. It looks in really good shape. I wish I had one of those these days, to slip on in the morning, let the dogs out in the yard for a quick morning release and head back to bed. But, I’d be worried wearing it too much, as I wouldn’t want it to deteriorate. Then again, the nicest gifts are the ones we constantly use and enjoy.
Your MIL was quite the industrious person. I see where Cliff got it from. 🙂 I like your mention of honey blonde hair. I wonder whether that is my hair color. I never managed to put a name or color on that.
Those clothes she knitted for your daughter’s doll reminds me of little clothes I had for my baby’s doll growing up. All that went to a flea market and then to a thrift store, unfortunately. I think the oldest thing I have is an heirloom ring my MIL gave me. I rarely get rid of gifts. To be honest, a lot of my belongings are gifts at this point, since I got rid of everything else. 🙂
To the girl with honey-blonde hair: I think you have sensible values, shedding what you don’t need and holding on to treasures like the heirloom ring from your mother-in-law. Here’s a secret. Crista no longer has those doll clothes. The cute photo of blue sweater and cap was from eBay, but I didn’t caption the picture before the blog posted.
Thanks, Liesbet, for sharing your stories here!
I have many sentimental items, including a turn-of-the-century chaisse in my room (thank goodness it fits). My Mom gave me my grandmother’s nightgowns when she passed away, all with her name sewn on the tag. I wear them, especially in the winter (flannel nighties) because it’s like a hug from her! 🙂
Another reader mentioned wearing robes and nightgowns from loved ones as hugs from the past. So they are!
I wonder if your turn-of-the-century chaisse was ever a blog post topic. Interesting . . .
Nice to hear from you . . . enjoy the season when you get a break from being an “officer.” 🙂
Lovely story. We have so many treasured memories in our house. I’m wearing my grandmother’s pearl ring, my father’s reclining chair is in the corner of our room, my husband has hammers and other tools that belonged to his father . . . the list goes one. Wonderful to remember the person when we use or wear something that belonged to them.
Wow, Arlene, treasures surround you, both nostalgic and functional: a pearl ring, a reclining chair, and tools!
I agree, it’s wonderful to remember the person when we use or wear something that belonged to them. Thanks, Arlene.
Each morning, the first thing I see is a hand-stitched poem from Aunt Ruthie, hanging just beside my dresser. Even in the dead of winter flowers bloom inside “My Mother’s Garden” frame.
Fun post Marian. I have an old sweatshirt, faded, torn at the cuffs, but oh so soft and warm I throw over my sleepshirt til this day when I’m cold. I bought it in Florida circa 1982 LOLLLLLLLLL
I was living in northeast Florida in 1982, long before we were “friends.” But my guess is you traveled further south where it’s warm even in winter. Right?
Ha! Oh yes, it was my annual winter vacation with my dad to Miami Beach! 🙂 A great flea market find! 🙂
Oh, Marian, this is such a poignant tribute to your dear mother-in-law. I feel as though I met her in person. I don’t blame you for hanging onto that green robe. I have an area rug that my mom made when I was engaged. It’s frayed around the edges but I can’t bring myself to discard it for all it represents. I can still see her fingers working on it.
I’m still stoked that you received a letter and a glowing Christmas bulb from your mother assuring you all that you’ll see her again. And of course your will. That’s an heirloom of there ever was one!
You surely nailed it when you mentioned that we probably hold onto a beloved item “for all it represents.” Thank you, Kathy, and Merry Christmas!
It blew me away, Marian. I remember those words from a letter she had left for us, her children and to see her own handwriting again stopped me in my tracks. Yes, a precious heirloom, indeed! Merry Christmas to all the Beamans!
😇
Elaine, I love the words “we’re edging toward a plan.” I know it is your heart’s desire to pass your land and house onto your son and wife. And then building a house for yourself – more manageable and with more sunset views – sounds like icing on the cake. Your land story will have a happy ending of that I am sure, unlike the greedy man in the Tolstoy short story “How Much Land Does a Man Need?” (Sorry, sometimes I just can’t turn off the English teacher echoes from a short story I taught in Lit class.)
A few dishes, embroidery, and crochet pieces don’t sound like a big encumbrance keeping a little longer or passing on. Thank you!
Beautiful memories.
Thanks, Fiona!
Such a sad story to loose your mother-in – law at such a young age . I love that robe …spring green , so refreshing. I would want it right by my side too. such a reminder of the short time spent with Viola ( such a beautiful name) .
I can’t think of any clothing I’ve kept from my family . I do have a booklet of my mother’s when she was in the A.T.S in W.W.2 …she wrote snippets of poetry , stories and names of friends she’d met . The writing is so tiny and beautiful . Handwriting was always taught in schools in those days …sad not many of us use it now 😢.
Cherryx
Viola lived a full life, if far too short. My big regret is that she never saw all 4 of her grandchildren and did not know the first two much beyond toddler age. Still, we are thankful for the memories.
I was curious about the A. T. S., which north Americans don’t know much about: It’s the Auxiliary Territorial Service, the women’s branch of the British Army during the Second World War from 1938 – 1949. I’m sure you are proud of your mum’s service and of your keepsake of her journaling with poetry, stories and friendly names. Thanks for sharing it here, Cherry! 🙂
How lovely, Marian. I remember Jantzen swimming suits. They were the best. I have so many things from the past, especially photos (process of sorting and labeling goes on–slowly), but maybe the most precious is this land and home which I hope will go to my younger son who moved back east from CA and now lives 3 miles from me.
We hope he can move into this old house and we’ll build a small new place for me on the property with even better sunset views. We’re working through various permutations of this and seem to be edging toward a plan. Meanwhile, I have my maternal grandmother’s embroidery and a few dishes. They’ll all be passed along. And my paternal grandmother’s crochet pieces which might stay with me a while longer. We never know how long.
Hi Marian – a truly charming yet sad story. I gave my mother for her 80th birthday a beautifully soft and pretty floor length Jantzen nightie – when she died I kept it. And I wear it in winter …
That colour is gorgeous. And it is functional besides its special memories.
I also inherited some dinner and soup plates that we use that I suspect were my grandmother’s .. and various other bits and bobs. Have a great week!
How endearing – you and I on the other side of the world both have Jantzen nightwear but same season, different times – ha! Since it is summer now, I suspect you have stored the nightie away until next winter. Thanks you for the good wishes, Susan, which I extend back to you as you continue to get settled in the new place. 🙂