The Twentieth Spoon
The first time I ever went to Francine’s apartment, more than twenty years ago now, I noticed a tea towel hanging in her kitchen. It illustrated the various types of Welsh love spoons. It still hangs in the kitchen of Pistachio House.
If you’re not familiar – as I certainly was not – there is an old custom in Wales to give carved wooden spoons to the one you love. They can be quite intricate, and all of the design elements have symbolic meanings.
Though she was not in the slightest bit Welsh, Francine found this old custom quite charming.
So when I proposed marriage to her, I first presented her with a Welsh love spoon as a gift to distract her. It worked, as she was squealing over the spoon, I went down on one knee and took out a ring.
That spoon actually has two spoon parts carved in it, representing two becoming one.
On our wedding night, I presented her with a second spoon. This one was quite simple, but a little twisty, which kind of represents the two of us together.
Every wedding anniversary thereafter, I gave Francine the gift of a new Welsh love spoon, most recently this January. This was the spoon that celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary.
When Francine passed to the Lord, these 19 spoons decorated one wall and part of another in the dining room of Pistachio House.
In terms of decorative elements – not to mention memory and emotion – they form the core of the most hobbity room in our hobbity house.
But after the funeral, I felt like the story was not complete.
So I purchased one final spoon for my beautiful bride. It arrived last week, and I hung it on the wall this past weekend.
This twentieth spoon features two hearts intertwined into one.
To me, this doesn’t really feel like the end of the story, but it does close out the earthly chapter of our life together.
I get quite emotional seeing it hanging there. And while right now those emotions are sorrow and loss, I hope someday they will be happy reminders of a life lived well in joy and adventure.
How beautiful! I love the warmth of the wooden spoons.
Please keep adding to her collection, its a very sweet reminder that your story will never be over.
My mother also collected spoons, but metal souvenirs style.
Her spoon collection were stolen by a moving company employee when we were transferred to Okinawa from Colorado.
Though she can’t verbalize it, I know she is still mad about it 50yrs later .
I still have my Seattle Center spoon from the 60’s – though my older brother who was also born in Seattle thinks it belongs to him because he was born 1st.
But the way I see it possession is 9/10 of the law
Thom, thank you for sharing this really intimate part of your life with us. I feel honored to have been given this gift of a piece of your heartfelt story. The twentieth spoon, indeed.