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My grandmothers ring. I was named after her, and truthfully she’s the only person I felt really loved me unconditionally and was always proud of me.
My dogs stuffed toy, that she used to carry around everywhere and even suckle on it to fall sleep.
She was my best friend and the best dog that has ever lived and because of how much she treasured that little thing, it’s something that I also will always treasure. She passed away in my arms 4 months ago and just thinking about her makes me cry.
The first love letter I got, on my sophomore year of college, and the sketchbook I used back then, full of drawings and notes that bring back such sweet memories.
The scrapbook that my best friends made for me, containing all memories/photos we had made together so far.
Everything that my brother gifted to me is a treasure. He crossed the bridge 3 years ago…
A jewelry box that my old boyfriend’s dad made for me for Christmas. It’s one of the things I have managed to not lose over the last 20 plus years of moving. Also listen silly drawings and notes my kids have given me over the years. I keep some of them in my wallet.
My Claddagh ring.
My deceased pets collars and tags
My first teddy bear. I don’t care if I’m 90 I will have him forever
The plush lamb I’ve had since birth named (creatively enough) Lambie.
My grandmother’s gold chain necklace.
My Grandma’s ring and her Bible.
A stuffed Bambi (from the Disney movie) that my grandfather gifted me in the hospital after being born 3 months premature. I remember sitting under the TV watching Disney’s Bambi as a kindergartner making my stuffed animal mimic the animation’s movements. I even took it with me when I studied abroad in college. Still have it now sitting next to my bed at 28.
My childhood teddy bear. My mom’s best friend gave it to me for my 6th birthday. It’s been to several countries and at least 20 states. It’s been in the nicu with my first kid and is now lost somewhere in my second kid’s room. It’s so beat up but it’s precious to me.
A little comic my dad drew of me when I was a kid.
The pink rhinestone heart shaped necklace the love of my life got me when I was 14 going on 15. He’s passed on for quite some time now and I ended up losing the necklace but sometimes when he pops in my mind, I think of this very moment and I can still feel the warmth of his hands as if he were still here putting it on my neck. We loved each other very much so but things happened. I also treasure our memories. Like the first time we slow danced. It was my first time ever doing that with a guy. Sometimes the song we danced to will come up randomly in a movie I’m watching and I can’t help but smile because I know he’s with me in that moment in time.
My Lolly Dolly. I was born when Lolly Dollies and Cholly Dollies were still being made. I had my dolly with me in my bassinet in the hospital before I went home. She was my best friend in the whole world. I teethed on her (something I now know was super common) and put holes all over her. She got repaired every time. I gnawed off her yarn hair. Eventually my mother took her rattle out one of the times I chewed a hole in her. I used to sit in front of the washer and cry while she was in there, and refuse to come inside while she hung upside down by her feet on the clothes line outside to dry. She was sometimes carried in the traditional chubby toddler arm around a dolly’s neck way, but more often I held her by a foot. Eventually she was completely threadbare and an almost uniform pinkish grey color. She had long since earned the name Rag Baby. Still, I kept her.
When I was 11 my mom got married the second time they bought a house. When we were packing to move, my mother insisted I get rid of my dolly. My life had been torn apart at 9, and this was fifth move since then. I was very careful about making sure my dolly was always safe. Only, she was missing when we got to the new house. I know with absolute certainty that it was my mother’s doing.
Very many years later I was browsing in one of those antique shops where it’s a bunch of rented booths of individuals selling things. And at the last booth, there she was. A Lolly Dolly. I was barely skirting having a roof over my head and didn’t know day to day how I was going to eat. I was only there killing time because the place was next to the MRI center I had an appointment at. I bought her anyway.
I’m 44, and I *always* know exactly where my Lolly Dolly is. She’s going in the incinerator with me when I die. I also buy one for every special little girl in my life. They only come second hand, but I repair them, clean them up as well as I’m able to, and send them off.
A painting from my Opa. He went through a phase where he painted these beautiful landscapes. He was really good, and he gave most of them away to family before I was even born. He hasn’t painted since. Anyways, when they were moving, I mentioned how I would have loved to have had one, and the next time I saw them, they brought a painting over that they had held on to. It’s of sailboats in a harbour, and I have it hanging in the hall outside my bedroom, so I can grab it easily if there’s a fire.
A set of Christmas mugs and plates my grandma gave to me.
A keychain made of wood my fiance gave me 13 years ago when we were in highschool.
A small ornamental toy that my dad bought for me when I was like 4.
my little gold hoop earrings that i’ve had since i was 4 and wear everyday, im 21 now. also a gold ring from my grandparents that i’ve worn every single day since i’ve got it <3 if you couldn’t tell already gold means a lot in my culture
The dog plushie that I still sleep with. I’ve had her since I was 7 and she’s gotten me through some rough times.
My great grandfather used to collect little wooden Santas from around the world, during his life travels. He had two dozen or so. One year, when I was eight, he asked me which one was my favorite. I pointed to a small round one the size of a ping pong ball. He handed it to me, then got down on one knee in front of me, held my hands in his, looked me in the eyes and said, “This is yours. And every time you look at it, you will think of me and remember me.” I love it. I only pull it out at Christmas because it also makes me a bit sad, but he was right, it helps me remember him.
Side note: please do this with your children and grandchildren. It means so much more to me to have this little momento than being left things in a will or to deal with after someone is gone. Give them memories of you, not just things.
My engagement ring
My Aunt’s (basically my second mom) died and I was able to grab her favorite vintage ski sweater! It’s hideous and I absolutely love it.
My father’s guitar. Doesn’t matter how old it is or how beat up it gets, I treasure that thing. It’s one of the major hobbies we shared together.
My Anastasia music box. My SO gave it to me on Valentine’s day ❤ I sing the song sometimes and play the tune.
A picture of my dad and me dancing on my wedding day. That day was the happiest memory I have of him. He’s been gone 5 years.
a necklace my grandfather brought back from Germany for my mom, who passed it down to me <3
My childhood teddy bear. He’s been with me for a while 31 years..