Masking Tape Memories on a Silver Platter

Polished and ready - many lifetimes of shared memories, ready for a new generation.

There's something special about inheriting a piece of family history, especially when it comes with a story—like a well-loved silver platter or a serving dish. You know the one: it’s been passed down, present at holiday meals, weddings, funerals, baby showers and the “just because” dinner.

But there’s a moment that really tugs at your heartstrings: when you turn it over and find a piece of masking tape with your mother’s name on it. That little strip of tape, now slightly faded and curling at the edges, is more than just a label. It’s a reminder of the women who came before you—women who knew that serving others wasn’t just a duty, but a privilege.

Some of the serveware shared by my mother and Aunt Anne.

You can almost picture her, a glint of humor in her eye, carefully placing that tape on the back, making sure that everyone knew who this piece belonged to. She probably joked about it, saying, “This way, y’all won’t fight over it when I’m gone!” But there’s more to it than that. It’s a symbol of the love, care, and warmth she brought to every gathering.

This service piece isn’t just silver or china; it’s a reflection of the tradition of hospitality that runs deep in my family. It’s been a silent witness to countless moments—laughter, tears, stories shared over coffee and cake. It’s a reminder that serving others isn’t just about setting the table or filling plates; it’s about creating a space where everyone feels welcome, loved, and appreciated.

So, when I see the familiar pen of Cheryl Skipper, Ruby Shaw, Eleanor Cain or Anne Dees on that piece of tape, it’s more than a label. It’s a nod to the legacy of kindness and generosity that they and all the ladies who worked alongside them, passed down to me.

When I place that dish on my table, I’m  not just continuing a tradition - I’m honoring the memory of those who made serving others an art form and taught me, by example, how to embrace people and the special moments in their lives.

So maybe, just maybe, one day someone will turn over something that I shared and find my name taped there, too. And they’ll know exactly what to do.