Maybe an heirloom or just something gifted to you? Something you’ve made or picked up? What meaning does it hold to you? Optional, but I’d love to hear the story behind it. 🙂
Maybe an heirloom or just something gifted to you? Something you’ve made or picked up? What meaning does it hold to you? Optional, but I’d love to hear the story behind it. 🙂
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My wife has a spinning wheel that has been in her family for many generations. It sits on our fireplace hearth.
I have two of my great grandfathers pocket watches. Both work. One is from the 1890’s, the other from 1922.
A candy dish that my mom gave me around 1980, that is exactly like the one she had for as long back as I can remember. When my mom died, my son inherited hers.
My grandmother gave me her birthday cup that she received when she was three years old (1906) in the Oklahoma Territory. Her family moved from there to WA state in 1919 via a Model A Ford and another car. The cup says, To a Good Girl.
High school letter jacket and pom poms.
I have a Hummel music box that my dad brought to me from one of his trips to the Mediterranean (Navy). He bought it because he thought the girl on the music looked like me.
a teddy bear. when I was a young child I had to talk to the cops about being uh lets phrase it as hurt by my step father.
one police officer kept getting choked up as I was talking. he finally excused himself and brought me who I call Big foot.
Big foot is my reminder that through every dark tunnel the light is always at the end of it. we just sometimes have to work to find that light within us.
My grandfather’s pocket watch, noted in another comment, and the jersey from my last hockey game in college.
My old husband. He has changed a lot over the years, can’t really do the things he could when he was younger, but we’ve been married for 58 year and I still do cherish him to this very day.
My grandma’s wedding ring from 1909.
Im actually wearing it: My grandmother’s wedding band from 1922. It is platinum with 5 diamonds- so classic. My mother wore it until I got married. Means the world. It represents a strong marriage, as I have with my husband! I will pass it on to one of my nieces at some point since we do not have children. My youngest niece will inherit my emerald cut diamond ring some day, and I hope she enjoys it as I have.
I have several things that are momentos that mean a great deal to me.
My father’s Veterans flag, along with his Vietnam memorial hat.
My sister’s rings that my brother in law gave me after my sister passed away
My mother’s hand crotcheted quilt, my mother’s rings that were given to me after she passed, and my mother’s hand painted ceramic knick knacks that she made back in the late 70’s, early 80’s.
I have the original photo of my grandparents on their wedding day with their wedding party. It’s from around 1915.
My grandfather was a woodworker – his preferred subject matter was birds but he also did some small mammals, like squirrels. I have several of his creations and would not sell them for any price.
I have an old, torn leather suitcase that my father carried over the Austrian Hungarian border in 1956, when we were fleeing the Hungarian Revolution. He held the suitcase in one hand, and me on his other arm. I also have a picture of us, on the Austrian side, with a border gate in the background. My parents, my grandmother, my sister, and I all came over.
My grandfathers Captains chair.
My Dad found it on the homestead property in the ‘grove’ of trees on the homestead property that his youngest brother now owns.
I was with both when they pulled it out of the dirt.
I was like 8.
A few rungs on the bottom were broken out.
Dad and his uncle then Re-created those rungs on his lathe.I had never seen that operate.
I was fascinated.
They painstakingly restored it. It was Dads chair at the formal dining room for many years.
I have it know and it’s been all over the country with me for the past 40 years.
My first understanding of how and why people preserve and restore family artifacts.
That has stayed with me today.
My grandparents had a Christmas tree farm in western MA for many years. It was 16 acres that had belonged to my great grandfather. When I was a kid, I would go there with my parents and help out around Christmas time. My “helping out” was mostly riding around on the Kubota and burning diesel, occasionally plowing with said Kubota, and drinking hot chocolate. I was grossly overpaid for any efforts.
I still have the measuring stick that my grandfather made out of a 1×4 and hand painted with measurements and dollar amounts. That stick measured every single tree that went through that place for the decades that they owned it. It’s just in the corner of my garage, but I treasure it.
I got a teddy bear my mom and grandma made for me when my mom found out she was pregnant.
A few years ago, my mother gave me my first baby blanket and one of my first baby toys, a little mechanical teddy bear that would lick an ice cream cone. The mechanical innards are long gone, but the ice cream cone is still attached to its hand. My 67-yr-old blanket is wrapped in plastic, not sure if it’ll fall apart if I open it.
My first telescope that was a gift from my grandfather – who worked on rockets at Cape Canaveral. We watched launches from his backyard boat dock on the Banana River in Cocoa Beach. Before men went to space!
And the P-38 can opener my dad carried during World War 2 as bo’sun on a PT Boat in the South Pacific. Been on my keychain for more than 60 years.
Also on that keychain – an elk antler tip from my first business making jewelry, belt buckles, and ‘accessories’ (pipes) as a newly emancipated – on good terms – sixteen year old in Boulder, Colorado, in 1971. That led to a self-employed life of adventure and travel.
I have my great grandfather’s wallet complete with everything inside while he carried it.
He was a kind man, my father’s favorite, and he lived long enough for me to have memories of him.
I have an old world globe that lights up that was my Great grandfathers. I’d play with it as a kid when we would visit, he meant the world to me so I treasure that globe now.
My Memento dvd
When I was 18, I grew a moustache and goatee. Shortly after they were grown in, my mother gave me a little facial hair grooming kit (small pair of scissors, a small comb, small brush, and tweezers). I’m now 65 yrs old and still have the facial hair and the kit, which I still use.
My dad gave me a little music box when I was 12ish. It’s very early 70s looking. I still have it. He always gave me little birthday gifts. I treasure that little musical box
I have my mom’s Alaskan gold nugget diamond ring. It was an anniversary gift because her original engagement ring was very small. She loved that ring. (my dad was in the Army and we were stationed in Alaska twice, the second time, he retired out and I did most of my growing up there). I also have the gold nugget bracelet, but the clasp isn’t very good and it’s a heavy piece, I don’t want to lose it.
Whenever we have a family event (like college graduations or weddings), I wear that ring and one of my dad’s tie clips so they can “be there” for the event.
My Grandma’s holy medals she wore pinned to her bra most of her life. She had a hard journey going through 2 World Wars, the Depression and poverty her whole life. She was humble, sweet and a true angel on earth.
After my mother passed, I was looking through her things and found a small music box with a small crystal angel ornament with a purple bell. It was a holiday gift she got from someone. I started off putting the angel up on my fireplace during the holidays. Purple is my motherand my favorite color. For the past several years I have left her out year round. I just realized I need to dust her!
I have a lot of mementos- will have to limit it to three.
My grandmother’s bed frame. Victorian walnut that Grandma and Grandpa picked off a curb on trash night, Cook county Illinois, 1946.
A hat rack that Mom fished out of a burn pile in 1964-she asked the people doing the clean out if she could keep it to hang ironing on.
A small china dish – white with blue flowers – that was given to me by my grandmother’s maid, Ilsa, for my thirteenth birthday.
All of these items are in daily use.
A Northrop factory model of P-61 blackwidow WWII airplane. My father’s dad worked on it as supervisor. I spent so many hours either playing with it, imagining I was flying over Germany in 45. Or just sitting and staring at it.
My grandmother bought me a beautiful gold flower ring with my birthstone when I was 9 or 10. I got it resized recently so I can wear it again. I’ve had it for over 40 years.
Concert t-shirts. But they wear out, so now (30 years later) get concert hoodies
My sister’s sterling silver bracelet. She died when she was 2. I was 5, 60 years ago.
A shirt I bought at the college bookstore my first semester in 1981. It has Snoopy and Woodstock wearing shades and holding mugs of beer. The word “Cheers” runs vertically on one side and the school’s initials are in all caps underneath Snoopy. I’ve never been able to bring myself to get rid of it and I still occasionally wear it. To my surprise it still fits.
I have my mom’s old brush. So many memories of her brushing my hair in front of her bathroom mirror. She would trim my hair or perm it herself. She was very frugal but not with her time. All the balls on the ends of the brush bristles have fallen off leaving it too painful to lose. I can’t throw it away though. She died in 2005.
Two things in particular: a brooch that my grandma wore on her wedding day, and a huge laundry pin that was given to my grandpa from the laundry service next door on the day I was born. Grandpa gave it to me on my 21st birthday.
I have my dad’s Zippo lighter that he received in 1966 for a million miles of driving a truck accident free. It still works perfectly with the original wick.
My grandpa’s engagement ring. It’s very old, very beautiful. I loved him so very much, I wear it on a chain, close to my heart along with a piece of jewelry from my dad. I also wear my mom’s wedding ring. Miss them all terribly
Pictures.
Mostly only memories. I almost started weeping at work because me n the gf were talking about my dad and a specific incident where he broke down in front of me as a teen and it was highly emotional and I so dearly miss him. But it’s not as much trinkets and such that mean stuff but those specific moments that are so deep in your soul n mind.
When my aunt was 8 yrs old, 1925, she walked to town & bought her mother a depression glass biscuit barrel for her birthday. Family of farmers, town was 2 miles away. My aunt passed it on to my wife. She’ll pass it on to our grand neice who was named after my aunt.
I have a smashed penny from Inner Space Cavern that I cherish.
When I was a weird, lonely latchkey kid in the early ‘80s, we lived next door to an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. They were just lovely.
Mrs. Morgan made the best dill pickles that I’ve ever had in my entire life. I have never found their equal. She could also bake up a batch cookies faster than you could think about wanting some.
Now, Mr. Morgan had been the New Mexico State Brand inspector back in the 1930s, I believe. He rode his horse all around the state, roping cattle, and registering ranch brands. He made sure that people weren’t stealing and trying to rebrand livestock. He said it was sometimes dangerous. He decided one day to teach me how to rope. He taught me how to tie a lasso, how to hold it, swing it, and throw it. Every day after school we would be out in the backyard with me trying to rope a tree stump. We had so much fun! I was always practicing and got to where I could rope anything that wasn’t moving. He was so proud. He loaned me his old rope that he had used when he was working. It was much bigger and stiff so I had to work harder to make it do what I wanted. He kept encouraging me.
When summer started, my parents sent off to stay with my brother who lived in another state. When I got I got back before school started, they told me that Mr. Morgan had died. I was heartbroken. I went over to see Mrs. Morgan and she gave me a big hug. She told me how happy he had been teaching me how rope. I remembered that I still had his old work rope. She told me to keep it.
I still have it. I think of the Morgans often. They were such a bright light in my life when everything else was really dark.
I have my Mother’s cut glass trifle dish and her engagement ring, I also had my Father’s medals from the army and police force and his police whistle until last week when I gave them to my son as we are in our eighties now and have started to think about making things easier for our family when the inevitable happens.
I have a cameo that was given to my great-great-grandmother by her husband on their wedding day. It’s a beautiful, hand-carved pin, with a delicate gold filigree border. It was handed down to my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother, and then to me…all of whom wore it on our respective wedding days. I don’t have a daughter and my son will probably never get married. Guess the buck stops with me :(.
Back in the 1990s, I was working in a nursing home and a lady who was a resident there used to own a local chain of grocery stores in Northeast Indiana. She took a liking to me and one day she came back from shopping with her niece and said that she had something for me. It was a “guardian angel” necklace.
To be honest, that thing is gaudy, lol. It’s a big gold angel sitting on top of a small glass bottle of fairy dust (glitter). I’d never in a million years want to wear that thing as a necklace, but I put it in my car because of the fact that it was called a guardian angel. I’ve kept it in the center console of every car I’ve owned since then, and it may seem silly but I swear I think that thing has protected me over the years from near collisions.
I have an old wooden sewing box says made in Italy. I don’t know where my grandparents got it, they didn’t go to Italy,, I suspect much later on that they found it where people left stuff for free in their apartment building. We got many things they said were from the incinerator room. I didn’t appreciate it much at the time, because I was like 7 or 8, I didn’t sew or know how to sew, didn’t know I would ever know how to sew or like to, but I do.
I have the 1946 Philco standup radio my Grandfather bought once they were available again after WWII. I remember as a kid in the late 70s visiting and tuning in to the police band and actually getting audio. It now resides in a special place in my living room, on top of which is a Christmas photo of my grandparents and 3 year old dad circa 1937, my gramma’s Brownie box camera, and a china cup and saucer she used for probably 50 years.
I also have her old silver plated gravy boat she served the most amazing gravies in. It was so well used the brass base metal is exposed. I have my Grampa’s cane, 48 star US flag he flew for 40 years, and his metal clad drill hanging up in my mancave garage.
Both of them emigrated from Germany in 1922 (Grampa) and 1930 (Gramma) and my Grandfather was a proud American. He religiously put that flag out every morning and brought it in every night and never flew it in inclement weather. It’s still in near-perfect condition. A side note – my grandfather’s pension from 42 years as a pipefitter for the same company was exactly $42 a month. They never had a lot of money, but holy smokes were they full of love. Gramps passed in 1989 and Gramma died in 1996 and I still miss them so much. I have a recording of my Grampa’s stories from the 20s & 30s on a cassette tape and this reminds me yet again I need to get that transferred to digital before it’s too late.
To contrast, my Mom was adopted and while I didn’t really know my Nana as she died when I was 9, my grandfather was a cold fish and I’m almost positive they only adopted my mom and her brother out of Christian guilt. My mom doesn’t recall much love and affection and my Dad and his family truly was the family she dreamed of. I have a wooden car her father made me in 1978 in my garage as well, but I don’t get the warm and fuzzies from it. Every single thing I own from my Dad’s parents makes me smile and think wistfully of the wonderful times I got to spend with them.
My late grandmothers. diamond and amethyst brooch.
My grandmother was 1/2 Castillian (light skinned) Spanish and 1/2 Romami gypsy. She married a handsome man who was 1/2 native American
Im over 70, so Grandmother’s Romani people were looked down on and kicked out of Spain to Oregon. And then settled in Texas. My grandfather concealed his heritage by reversing his last name to Armstrong.
My grandmother was very intelligent and classy. She overcompensated for being the subject of bigotry by always being an elegant lady. Whenever she left the house, she wore a beautiful black wool crepe suit and white satin blouse with pearls. When my grandfather first found success as a home builder, he brought her the brooch. Its all i have of her. I wear it with pride on special occasions
Yearbooks and my Mom’s passport photo when she arrived at Ellis Island at age 13
I have a parlor decorated with all the lovely things that belonged to the people in my family that I grew up with. I can go in there and reconnect with them.
A mug from when the cubs won the World Series in 1908. I don’t know how my grandfather got it but before my grandmother died she gave it to me. I was a a softball player and loved talking baseball with my grandpa when i was little. I don’t have any family but i still have that mug in my curio cabinet
Back in the early 80’s my older brother would scavenge through abandoned farmhouses near my hometown. One day, I received a package in the mail. It was a one-pint glass milk bottle with a date embossed on it. The date was my birthday, but it was from 1913. There was a sweet note from my brother tucked inside it.
I lost my brother to suicide in 1998. But I still have that bottle and note.
Hand made Christmas ornaments. I made them with my children and grandchildren. Even the boys couldn’t wait for that special day. We would get pine cones sticks and cut branches from a pine tree, until we found out hundred of tiny bugs hide in the pine cones when they warm up!! Great laughs and learning for all of us.
A clock my great-grandfather made and an afghan blanket my great-grandma made and stitchery art my grandmother made.
A family Bible from 1889. It has all the dates of marriages, births, and deaths written on the inside cover.
My “Sister Boom Boom for Supervisor” campaign poster from San Francisco in the ‘early 80s. Sister Boom Boom was a gay political activist named Jack Fertig who ran for supervisor under his “stage name” (because the law allowed it) and actually got a respectable member of votes. “Diane” is Diane Feinstein, centrist mayor of San Francisco and friendly to gays but never a “friend in need.” I do miss the ’80s in the city, despite being at ground zero in tragedy of AIDS.
It’s on the wall, framed. If you want to know what Sister Boom Boom was a sister of, google The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. That’s a whole rabbit hole right there, and as far as I’m concerned one of the prides of the city.
I have two blankets and a tablecloth my mom (born in 1920) made knitting and crocheting. I’m mad at myself for never learning.
Our preacher gave out high school graduation gifts each year. Mine is a letter holder, basically a big paper clip on a stand, with the inscription “When you’re right, no one remembers. When you’re wrong, no one forgets.”
One of the alternative Canadian flags that was floating around in 1964-65. It has three red maple leaves in the Centre and a blue bar on either side, representing the Pacific and Atlantic oceans.
My mom’s pin cushion and thimble.
My mother-in-laws’ garden trowel.
Pictures of my ancestors.
I still have my house key given to me in second grade at the dawn the latch key kids.
Just a little carnival glass basket my mom handed down – circa depression-era.
Also a glass piggy bank from a dear loved one.
I have a small, pocket-sized, hardcover book of the New Testament written in Czech, that belonged to my grandmother. She emigrated to the United States from what was then Czechloslovakia when she was in her twenties. The cover of the book is very ornate and you can tell it once had a metal clasp to keep the book closed.
I have all my dad’s WW2 things. His uniform, medals and a bunch of things he collected while he was there. I keep it all in a cedar chest in the living room. I also got all the family photos going back to the mid 1800’s. And my journal that’s now about 1500 pages that I started in 1978. The story of my adult life.
I have a green stamps kids rocking chair from the early 60 which survived me & my siblings(5 total) and all kids since.
A handmade Christmas ornament from my paternal great-grandmother, given to me in 1972. She was a crafter and seamstress who made gifts for every person in her extended family each year. It is a simple candy-cane elf, made with real candy canes and Star mints that are in netting and tied together with pipe cleaners. The head is a 1″ diameter styrofoam ball with sequins for eyes, a bit of red string glued into a smile for his mouth, and a red felt cone glued on top as a hat. Every thing about is original, even the candy canes/ mints, 50-odd years later. The gift tag, with her handwriting, is still attached.
It hangs pride of place on the Christmas tree each year.
I have 2 items that I love. I have the glass butter churn that I don’t know how far back, great parents, probably the 30s. I remember sitting in front of the tv churning butter when I was little. Don’t laugh lol, I have the pound puppy mom got me when I was 16. Their 1st year out.
Parents put a teddy bear in my crib for Christmas when I was 2 weeks old, 70+ years ago now. It’s now in a shadow box hanging on my wall.
A well rounded and robust education.
So many! A portrait of my mother, who died giving birth to me. An antique stoneware crock from my great-aunt’s antique shop. Numerous small gifts from my late husband. One of my favorites is a simple bracelet made from a bike spoke. We were both really into distance cycling in those days and it’s the one I always wear when I go places more interesting than the grocery store.
Honestly, you can walk through my house and I can tell you what every little thing means, even the piece of broken tile worn smooth by years in a river in Vermont (vacay with the hubby) or the blue shell on my bathroom counter, a souvenir from a weekend with friends at the beach at a time when a friend said to join him and his friends, plenty of room at the beach house, bring nothing but a change of clothes. It was a low time in my life and that little getaway reminded me to keep at it because life is still worth living.
I have a chef’s knife from the restaurant where my mom worked and met my dad. I also have a beautiful Dutch oven that came from the summer cabin we had when I was young. Both are easily 60 or more years old
Still have Suzi’s name tag from our exchange after a rendezvous in the lower level of the pirate attraction.
mylar table
I have a collection of my grandmothers hairpins. She always wore her hair in a beautiful low bun secured with her beautiful hairpins. Have them framed and hanging in my bedroom
My memories.
1981 Rolling Stones tour poster framed and hanging in my bedroom.
Grammy’s cast iron. Specifically the Dutch oven. I’m 70 YO and that Dutch is older than I am, but what it does, it does it with excellence!
Made braised beef in it yesterday for “street” Tacos tonight. YUM.
I don’t use them much anymore due to the weight and the fact hubs does all the dishes most days, so when I pull them out, I clean them. But damn! They are some sweet ass Wagners.
I have a ruby ring that belonged to my mom. I also have a silver cross that my preceptor brought me when I finished my internship in 1976. He bought it at the Vatican.
This is such a great thread! Thank you for asking this question. Fun to read all these stories. I have the suitcase that my grandmother left home with in the 1920s when she got married, and took around the world at least three times on her and my grandfather’s travels, she told me. I also have the rocking chair that my mother rocked me in when I was a newborn. Plus, lots of other trivial things that are precious. OP, I hope you have or will receive some special things that you can associate happy memories with.
A piece of candy my dad gave me, a shamrock, in 1965. Still have it. He passed away in 1969
I have a sock monkey my great grandmother made for me. It’s so ugly I love it!
Two handkerchiefs that belonged to my dad. He never went anywhere without one. When he died (2017) I found them in his stuff. I still have them and use them, as I cannot part with them-I remember him drying my tears with them, helping me blow my nose when I was little and doing the same with my son when he was little.
I did an estate sale for a family several years ago. They were all dysfunctional assholes, but it was a trying time so I tried to stay cheerful & understanding. On the last day when I gave them the proceeds I also handed them something else; a small can that once held Hershey’s chocolate syrup. It had come out of a brownie mix in the 1970’s before Duncan Heinz changed to a plastic pouch. Their grandmother had used a can opener to remove both the top & bottom of the can, no doubt to use as a biscuit cutter. It was adorable.
Long story but I didn’t know my dad’s dad and had only met him a couple times when i was 16. But I have so much stuff from his house. Too much. I love it all. Furniture from the 40s or earlier. Lots of old.ceramics – vases, figurines and such – some are 100+ years old. I took my grandmothers old.china cabinet and a corner knick knack shelf just to hold some.of it. I wish I could have bought the house but it was way too much for us.and needed too much work. It was like something out of old Hollywood. The living room was built to hold a grand piano. (There were a dozen matching.crystal ashtrays.)
I don’t have any physical mementos that I cherish. I’ve moved so many times and my mom is a true hoarder (the nasty kind) and I think those are two factors that come into play regarding me not having attachment to material things.
However, I did scan in (and then threw away) all of my old journals, writings, doodles, artwork, school projects, ticket stubs, notes passed in class, etc. Some periods of my life aren’t something I’d like to revisit now, but I’m glad I have that stuff safe and sound on the cloud to look back at when I feel the need. I encourage everyone to do the same! Nothing physical lasts forever. Especially get those photos scanned in so you can share with the rest of your family and preserve those memories!
I have a rock. Yes, it’s actually a rock. When my husband and I first started dating, we went with a group of friends for a hike around the river where we lived.
Everyone was kind of scattered about on the riverbank and my now husband walked up and handed me a river rock and it was shaped like a heart. He said “Here. I saw this and thought of you.”
It sits proudly atop my jewelry box and has for 30 years.
I’ve got these Anotomically correct ceramic frogs……..
A bronze leaping wolf flagpole finial – A memory of looking up at the thing when I was a wee 8 year old on my first pack meet.
The NYPD Chief of Detectives used to give out these little lapel pins that had a DB on them for ” “Detective Bureau” This chief was the only one that did that. Anyway i was a Patrol Lieutenant in Brookyn and i accepted a position of Destective Squad Commander. It was a big step. I was assigned in Brooklyn. Anyway, the first day i was transferred at 2:00am in the morning a livery cab driver was shot in the head with a sawed off shotgun and killed. 🤦 At the time livery cab homicides almost never got solved. I went into work at 2:00am on saturday and by monday we had worked straight through and it was looking hopeless when finally a break came in the case and we caught the guys and recovered the sawed off shotgun! 😳 it was a big deal we had the NYPD version of SWAT there with the big truck and heavy weapons but we got them both without firing a shot. On weds i went into work for a day tour and got called into manhattan to the Chief of Detectives office and he pinned me with that little pin and i wore it on my lapel for the next 5 years that i was a Whip which was NYPD slang for Squad Commander. The chiefs that followed didnt give out that pin anymore. I am retired for 20 years now and i still have that pin. It doesnt mean anything to anyone but me and my kids are grown and out of the house now and they were young when i retired so they barely remember me as a cop. I suspect some day after i die that pin will end up in a pile of dust on the floor somewhere until someone throws it in the garbage but at one time i was very proud of that little pin. 🥹
A stuffed dog my aunt gave me when I was 18 months old. Last year he was my Christmas tree topper, adorned with wide blue and silver ribbons.
I have a McCormick teapot that my grandfather bought for me as a bribe to be something other than a spoiled 4 year old. We lived in a coal patch and he would take me to the company store just about every day, for some kind of treat. Why I wanted a teapot is a question for the ages. It’s traveled with me for 70 years.
https://www.fredericknewspost.com/archives/old-mccormick-teapots-on-display/article_27eee5f9-bbde-56d2-a6ad-01b07f1b9e85.html
My grandmother graduated from USC in 1949. As a black woman back then, that was a big deal, so I have her class ring that I cherish.
My mother’s Tupperware plastic strainer. It’s old and faded and I will grab that if the house burns down. That and the pink blanket I got as an infant. It’s still in one piece. I’m 55.
A cookbook from my mother’s family dating from the 1880s with additional recipes from the 1930s and 40s stuffed into it.
My maternal grandmother’s hand-drawn paper dolls from around 1918. They are stored in a 1919 Ladies’ Home Journal, complete with articles about how women should get the vote since they were so good at keeping the country running during the Great War, that is to say WWI.
My paternal grandmother’s hand-made pottery from the 1940s and 1950s.
My 1984 copy of TIME with Madonna on the cover. Madonna’s first Rolling Stone cover, also from 1984.
I have all sorts of things that would mean nothing to anyone else. I have dirt in a jar from the first house I lived in, pretty stones I got from the street in front. A piece of roofing tile from an old railroad station that had been torn down, etc. What was probably the top to a perfume bottle I found in a parking lot. It’s shaped like the glass on a kerosene lamp with fluted top. I used it for a lamp in my troll house. Just junk to anyone else.
My wife. This year will be our 49th anniversary