The Things That Make Her Me

the things that make

h r e

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contents

05 Introduction 09 The Gift I Never Wore 11 A Piece of Her Collection 15 Mother & Daughter 17 My Old Friend 21 The Unknown 23 Colophon 3

Introduction As a kid growing up, I kept a hold of certain things. I was very meticulous when it came to these objects. I never really knew why I kept things that seemed insignificant to others.

As I grew older I began to realize why. The reason why I kept these things wasn’t because of the object itself nor because of the monetary value it held, it was the stories and the people behind them. Something I have always been thankful for is my family. They have always loved and supported me through anything and everything. These items remind me of individual people in my family, so that is why they are near and dear to my heart. Without these objects, or more so the people in the stories behind them, I wouldn’t truly be the person I am today. These are the things that make “her” me.

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“ When someone

you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.”

–Unknown

loss 7

The Gift I Never Wore From lazy days spent in the warmth of the indoors to attempting to build a snowman with my brother to decorating the tree as a family to baking treats with my Grandma, Christmas time has always been so wonderful. Except, this year it was different. It was Christmas morning, December 25th, 2005. “Wake up, wake up, Santa came” I exclaimed going room to room, waking my family members up. I was that kid who could hardly sleep the night before, periodically checking to see if Santa had come yet. Eventually, I would wake up at 5am ready to open presents. Once everyone is somewhat awake, we take turns opening presents from youngest to oldest like we always do. We tore up the wrapping paper as fast as we could to reveal our gifts. “I can’t believe I got almost everything I asked Santa for” I said. I was eager to play with my new toys and I thought we were finished opening gifts, but my mom found a small box. She said it was a present for me and urged me to open it. Holding the small, thin box I was puzzled. What kind of toy could be in such a compact box? When I opened it I was surprised. It wasn’t a toy and it wasn’t something I asked Santa for. It was a silver heart locket with the cursive letter “S” on it. How

pretty I thought to myself. Examining my new treasure, I noticed the back as it had “Love, Daddy 2005” engraved in all capital letters. I thought I knew what this meant and in my head I thought it was going to be the best day ever. He was coming back and he came to give me this special necklace on Christmas day. I missed him so much. I would always ask my Mom where he was and when he would return. My dad would never come back, it was impossible, but I didn’t understand what death meant at 4 years old. That locket would be an object I would never let go of. It means so much to me that I rarely wear it in fear of losing it. It’s been 16 years since my Dad’s passing and since that first Christmas without him when I received that locket. I will always wonder what life would have been like if he was still here. It’s the part of not truly getting to know him that bothers me. I know my Dad through other people, stories, objects, photographs, and especially my locket. That is until we meet again.

LOVE, SHAYDAN 2021

lock·et n.

A small ornamental case for a picture or keepsake that is worn as jewelry, often as a pendant on a necklace.

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A Piece of Her Collection My Grandma, Carolyn Bayless, was someone I spent a lot of time with growing up. She was funny, out-spoken, sweet, and loving. She was my Dad’s mom and she allowed me to know him through her. One thing about my grandma was that she liked to collect all sorts of items like gadgets, dolls, snow globes, figurines, antiques, etc.

One day when my younger brother and I were playing at her house, she decided to let us each pick out a snow globe from her collection. I can’t remember what made her decide to let us pick one out, but I do remember how important her collection was to her. We were always told to be careful around the curio cabinet where she kept them in order to prevent anything bad from happening to them.

Bladen picked a blue cloud themed one while I picked a pink Valentine’s day themed one. Bladen and I thought it was so cool she was willing to give us each a piece of her collection.

At the end of the day, we headed into the garage so grandma could drive us back home. We were excited to bring them home to show Mom what grandma had given us. Unfortunately, Bladen must have been too excited as we watched the snow globe slip out of his fingers like butter. We watched as the snow globe came into contact with the cement and shattered the precious piece of her collection. Grandma wasn’t upset though, she was always understanding. This occurrence made me treasure my new snow globe even more. I was careful as I shook it and watched the pieces of glitter fall to the bottom of the base. It became even more special after October 1st, 2013 as my Grandma Bayless passed away from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, or COPD. I am grateful that I was able to get to know my grandma. The snow globe she gave me is a piece that reminds me of the relationship we shared.

I will forever remember her humor and her tender heart.

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love

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suppor

&

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Mother & Daughter I was sixteen, about to turn seventeen when my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday. “A Louis Vuitton” I jokingly said to my mother, knowing that I would never actually expect her to buy such an expensive purse.

But when I said this, I was forgetting who my mom is.

My mother is the most selfless person I have ever met.

She is a single mother who raised three kids on her own, never asking for help. Something I admire about her is that she never stops giving up, no matter how hard it gets.

She’s hardworking, strong, compassionate, kind, generous, optimistic, knowledgeable, and one of my best friends that I’ve ever had. She does everything in her power to give us kids the best life and to make us feel loved. She has always put her kids before herself in all aspects. I am eternally grateful for her and everything she does.

A few days go by, maybe a couple weeks, until one day she brings home a Louis Vuitton bag. “This is for you” she said, while also telling me how proud she is of me for the person I am. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t the bag that had me shocked, it was the person my mom is. I didn’t want to accept the gift. I felt guilty that she had spent her hard earned money on some unnecessary, materialistic gift for me. I treasure this bag because of the wonderful woman who gifted it to me. I never plan on getting rid of it for any reason.

I hope one day I can give it to my future daughter. Also, I can only hope that one day I can be half the person my mother is, she is really an absolutely amazing human being.

“ I believe in your heart.

I believe in your hopes, desires, and dreams. I believe in you abilities and potential, and all of the promise that resides within. Most of all, I believe in you. I always have.”

– Mom

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My Old Friend I have this blanket I dragged everywhere with me when I was a kid. I named her Patty for some reason, almost like this blanket was a real person. Maybe it is because of the safety it brought me. My blanket was handmade, crossed stitched, and sewn with love by my Grandma, Roberta Corey. She gifted it to me at the time of my birth. My mom says I really grew attached to my blankie after my father passed, but she assumed I would grow out of it one day. As I grew older, other kids my age grew out of their stuffed toys and blankets, I did not. I couldn’t get rid of her, no matter how hard I tried. She became a comfort, a security, and she eventually became a part of me and who I am. I remember one time at my friend’s birthday party in elementary school, a girl picked up my blanket. With a disgusted look on her face she said “Who’s rag is this?” It didn’t hurt my feelings nor was I embarrassed about it. I found it funny because the thing I treasured most looked like “garbage” to someone else.

Over time she had grown tired. It started with a few rips in the ABC patterned backing, then it progressed to some of the cross stitching falling off to all the batting being torn off. Eventually the whole backing fell off along with all the batting. Before I knew it, almost all the cross stitching of the bear on the front was gone. I ended up keeping the pieces that fell off in a ziploc

bag because I couldn’t bear to part with any piece of my blanket.

I eventually was forced to throw away those pieces after about a year of them just sitting in there. It turns out it was really gross to keep a decade year old blanket in a plastic bag as it began to smell bad. The only thing left of the blanket is the front where the eyes of the bear appear, the pink ruffle trim, and the tag that says “Made with love by Grandma.” Despite Patty’s flaws, she remained just as special to me and we still went places together. We went to more sleepovers, vacations, even to college, and my first two apartments. Patty has been with me through all the good times as well as the bad. She’s dried a lot of my tears too. On nights that I felt so alone and hopeless, I had her to comfort me; I wasn’t alone. My family members would always tease me and say “You still have that darn thing?” And I would say “You’re darn right I do, I’m never getting rid of it!”

Here I am today at 20 almost 21 years old, still living my life sleeping with my baby blanket every night. At this point it is a habit and I don’t even think twice about needing my blanket to sleep. Some people may not understand why I can’t get rid of this blanket, now merely a piece of material, but the only thing that matters is that I know why I do. I don’t care if others find it strange, weird, or call it a rag, it is what makes me myself.

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finding me 19

The Unknown These books have really seen the best, the worst, and the ugly of my life. I have kept a journal since elementary school and I began making entries, or should I say drawings as a kindergartner. One thing about me is that I love to write. I do a lot of thinking in my head and I like to find ways to express my thoughts. Journaling has given me a healthy way to cope with my emotions. When I feel alone, excited, stressed, worried, or I want to make a record of something significant in my life, I journal. Journaling is a way for me to communicate with myself and become more self-aware of my emotions in order to better understand the person I am. I seek deep meaning in life and recording the events that happen in my life gives me purpose. Very few people in my life know that

I journal. I write about things that are too personal to share with others, so no one but me knows what are written on those pages. It is interesting to look back at the entries I made in these books. I feel like my journals tell a story about a girl who is lost and is trying to find her way. I hope that one day when I pass, someone finds them and takes the initiative to really understand who I am, or who I was. Sometimes my journals make me sad as I look back on the entries I wrote while going through tragic or sad events. I then remember that because I’ve experienced these emotions, I am a stronger person today. I am still writing my story and I will continue to do so for as long as possible. I don’t let the past define me, but I do believe I wouldn’t be “her” without the things that make me, well me.

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Colophon This booklet was designed, edited, written, and produced by Shaydan Bayless. It was designed on Adobe InDesign and it was published on December 6th, 2021. This booklet was printed on tabloid oversize paper and was trimmed down to tabloid size and folded in half. Each page was carefully crafted as it is hand folded and saddle stitched with wax book binding thread. All the images of objects were taken on an iPhone. Family photos were taken on a digital camera and scanned in. All mementos were scanned in as well. Photos were edited on Adobe Photoshop. The typeface used in this booklet is Adobe Garamond Pro, which is classified as Old Style (serif ). It was designed by Claude Garamond in 1531.

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by Shaydan Bayless