This is a really tough question, Glitch. Not counting pets, I guess if I was to grab anything, it would be my box of photographs I took when I was in the military. That time in my life (4 years immediately after high school) truly changed who I was; or maybe it just peeled away the exterior of the child to reveal the young woman. Whatever. I guess it would be the pictures.
My late father’s artwork (my only real connection to him).
A signed first edition copy of “A Clockwork Orange” by Anthony Burgess.
A first edition poster, signed by the artist, from 1967 for a “Big Brother And The Holding Company” show at the old Avalon Ballroom in San Francisco (it’s the one with the Zig-Zag man on it).
An autographed ticket stub that Jerry Garcia signed for me one night (one of the nicest guys I’ve ever had the privilage of meeting).
This might seem kind of silly, but my second most cherished possession is a pillow. A family friend made it for me, when I was 6 years old. I’m 32 now. It’s in the shape of a cat face, and it has seen & heard so much from me.
My number one most cherished possession is a clay figure that my oldest daughter made. She made it almost four years ago, as a wedding gift for my husband and me. It was her first ever clay project, and she forgot halfway through making it if it was supposed to be a cat or a dog. I think it looks more like a cow, but that’s beside the point. It’s beautiful, and it was made with all the love a child’s heart can hold.
My literature. Includes all my books, all the poetry and whatnot I’ve written, letters, poems and things that others have written and given to me, etc.
All my photographs, other memorabilia (the outfit Bowen wore home from the hospital, my diploma, the ceramic cake-topper that my best friends picked out for my wedding, Bowen’s baby book, the journal I kept while I was pregnant, etc.)
My purple teddy bear. I’ve had it since I was 2 years old. I’m 40 now and it’s been with me throughout an entire military career of 20 years. It’s been around the world from one crisis to another and served in the Gulf War right by my side (usually tucked into the pocket of a rucksack or A-bag). It sits with me now in my patrol car and watches over me. Pretty soon I’ll give it to my son, since he just turned two years. Angels take on the most unusual forms don’t they?
My yellow stuffed dog that I’ve had since my first Christmas, when I was 6 months old. He’s been hugged and cried on through the worst of times (junior high) and the best of times (college and most everything since) and every time in between - and he’s lost a lot of beans and features in the process.
My queen-size bed. Mmmmmm - and I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
I have a necklace that I bought for myself. It was hugely expensive (for silver)and made by some famous guy (apparently not so famous that I can remember his name). It’s beautiful in it’s simplicity, really divine.
I had just divorced my evil ex afer an abusive, short-lived marriage, started working a new job, moved, and was feeling pretty good about getting my life back in order and feeling worthwhile again. I bought it for myself as a kind of celebration of the new me.
Not trying to sound un-materialistic, but the older I get (and I’m very old), the less I care about “stuff.” I could be burglarized tomorrow and I really wouldn’t care.
Probably the only thing I own that couldn’t be easily replaced is a cream pitcher handed down (well, snuck out of the house – he had 8 brothers and sisters) from my late husband’s mom.
The pitcher is white, and the handle is a cat peering down into the top.
The other cool thing I might miss is the Fargo snow globe (there are red flakes with the white, of course) given to me by my daughter last Christmas, along with the video. (It’s the one with the chipper.)
I have to side with Auntie Pam and sounding unmaterialistic. I’m not as ooold as she, but if my house were burgled, I’d help the guys load up just to rid my place of stuff.
I would have to hold on to the circa 1860’s pump organ. It’s an ornate peice of playable musical history that is spectacularly beautiful and a great conversationaly starter. I can’t play a damn thing on it and if I ever got really really desperate for cash I suppose I could sell it for about $9000, but I won’t. Here’s why.
Back when my parents has X amount of kids and had been married X amount of years. They had Zero amount of money. A wedding anniversary was rolling by and they did one gift for both of them usually for the house. They drove by the Salvation Army ( This was before the Salvation Army stores started smelling like urine and selling total crap, according to my mom. I’m guessing 1959 or so.) and saw in the window this glorious pump organ. Being that mom is a semi professional pianist and played the organ at her church, it would be a great addition that would be used at the house. It’s price? A lofty $125. Too rich for their blood.
Secretly, Mom scrimped and saved her grocery money to buy that organ. She drove buy it everytime she was out and about and just drooled over it in the window. The day she had enough money, she raced down to the store to buy it. Only to discover it had been sold THAT morning. Depressed and deflated, she drove home. What was at home? That organ. My dad had scrimped and saved (skipping lunches) and bought it that morning for her and had a couple of guys at work load it up and take it home.
Glith–“that” is correct. “Which” is used following a comma and used almost paranthetically (i.e., “The cat that was on the bed was snoring.” “The cat, which was on the bed, was snoring.”). They can also be used together–“that which is true”–etc. Yep, I loved my Editing class. I’m a bit of a grammar geek.
Now, as for irreplacable and most valuable objects (at least, to me), they are:
Princess’ collar tag. I had the wonderful cat from age 4 to 21. I keep her tag on my key chain.
My grandmother’s spoon bowl. It had been her mother’s–and her mother died when she was 12. It’s a very precious heirloom in our family, although it has little monetary value. I think it’s neat that she gave it to me.
My journals. I have literally boxes of stuff I’ve written.
I guess it would have to be my medal and coffee mug earned for 4th place at the Clear Lake triathlon in 1991. At age 34, it was the culmination of the most intense 8 months of my life. Every time I see the mug it reminds me of the dorky stringbean who got to play with the godbodies for a summer. Damn, that was a good year.
A hand written draft of a poem by Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) which I found taped inside of a book of poems by her. Actually, my entire collection of Teasdale books, but that sheet of paper is the jewel in the crown.
“I guess it is possible for one person to make a difference, although most of the time they probably shouldn’t.”
I have no idea. Does my website count? It has my journals, dreams, photos, etc on it… or maybe my artwork… or maybe my photo albums… or maybe the clothes that I’ve designed & made… it is really hard to say.
Man, I just don’t know. I can’t pick “one thing” …
Not one of my possesions makes number one, I guess. I cherish many of them, mostly:
My books,
My father’s watch (“inherited” in life),
My computer,
Some of my clothing,
But most of all, if this can be considered a “physical” possesion,
MY HEALTH.
I have a book autographed by Lt.General Lewis MacKenzie, I served with him one time. A wonderful man,truly an outspoken no-nonsense man. My U.N. service medals…