Who exactly is the Colonel? And is there REALLY a “Colonel”? Those are the questions I’ve been asked the most over the past eight years. The short answer is yes, there really is a Colonel although her title was not formally granted, per se. She is, to this day, one of the most inspirational people I have ever known.
My maternal grandmother was a firecracker. A lady that faced life…and its many challenges…head on, no matter what was coming at her. This spirit never left. In her later years, as she battled the challenges of dementia, it only seemed to intensify. The fire that had burned so brightly in her younger years, still fueled an independence in her later years that could make caring for her a bit of a challenge. My mother, genuinely the kindest person that I know, was her primary caregiver in her final years. To put it mildly, those years were quite something. My mother was the one that made my grandmother do all the things that she detested; things like brushing her teeth, going to the doctor, and eating something other than a Klondike bar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Gran really loved her Klondike’s even with cholesterol levels that made her practically a solid. For this overwatch, my mother earned the nickname of “the Colonel”. Ideally, this was said in jest, but if we are being honest, there were many times it was said with sincerity.
The name stuck. The Colonel. The matriarch of the family that made the tough decisions, had the hard conversations, and knew that a good meal could help resolve a lot of life’s little challenges.
After my grandmother passed, as my mom and her siblings were going through my grandparent’s estate, she would bring back keepsakes that they had discovered. A dish she remembered using as a child, a child’s tea set that my grandmother always had on display, her childhood quilt, her great grandfather’s tools. All these items came with the stories that inextricably linked me to the people they represented – some that I hadn’t even met. My past came alive in the coolest way I had ever known.
Thus came my love for all things vintage; it truly was the Colonel’s grace, her willingness to share both memory and memento that was the catalyst for my first space in a little antique shop in Richmond, Virginia. And while I could never part with the family relics, the thrill of the hunt became one of our favorite past-times. Finding that piece, wondering what the story was behind it, thinking about the people it represented and the lives they had lived.
The Colonel is still a big part of the business today. You will usually find her at the pop-up shops with me, chatting with customers or restocking our spaces. She loves going junking and picking and will randomly drag my dad into the occasional antique store for a walk down memory lane. (Not one of his favorite past-times but he suffers in pseudo silence!)
As we worked through the recipes we were going to put in The Colonel’s Kitchen, she was right there with me every step and quickly became my chief taste tester. And, whether she’s ready or not, as we move into this e-commerce adventure, she’ll continue to be a key part of the journey. Guiding, advising, praying, celebrating the wins and laughing through the learnings.
We’re so glad to have you join us as we navigate these new paths together! Next week we will be sharing one of the Colonel's favorite recipes to kick off the first "official" blog post so make sure to check back in then. If there's a recipe you have looked for and can't seem to find, contact us and let us know!
Love-
Rebekah
The Colonel's Grace
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