Sentimental journey

Yesterday I wrote that I am not really sentimental, but there are exceptions.

I have an orange juice can, covered in faded green construction paper and decorated in black crayon that my oldest son made for me when he was in three year old preschool. I treasure it!  Since the day he gave it to me is where I have kept pens, bookmarkers, scissors and a pencil with his name on it.

I have two hat pins that belonged to my Great Grandmother Gale. One is sterling silver and the other a beautiful amethyst. I cannot imagine parting with them.

I had a macaroni Christmas angel my youngest son made for me in cub scouts. It was my favorite thing to hang on the tree every single year until it disappeared in a move. Nothing could ever replace it.

I have a large kilt pin that once belonged to my mother, two cards that remind me who I am, some rocks, and Bearnard who I would be sad to part with it, and a handful of other things like this that I have hauled from place to place, through the years.

So, I do have things I am very sentimental about. They are mostly small things that would be worthless to other people, but to me they mean the world.