My grandparents joyfully announced to me one day they were giving me two items before they made the move to an assisted living facility – a silver-plated coffee set and a Singer sewing machine table. I was strapped for cash at the time, so they happily advised I could sell them for a lot of money.

“Thank you for thinking me,” I smiled. “Unfortunately, there is a crack on the pot and, Grampie, you nailed a shelf onto the table. They aren’t worth anything.”

To their now crestfallen faces, I added, “However, on a sentimental level, they are priceless because they belonged to you. I will always cherish them.”

My grandmother, now a little doubtful, then gestured to the bookcase my grandfather had built for her several years ago.

“A couple of people said there are certain books they would like, so I’ve written their names on the inside covers to make sure no one else takes them. Maybe there are books you could sell. Some of them are old.”

“Again,” I replied, “for non-monetary reasons, there is a book I would like to receive.”

It was the Audubon Society Book of Birds from the 1930’s, which had been given to my mother on her sixth birthday from a favorite aunt.

When I was a child, a visit to my grandparents’ home involved a four-hour drive for my family, so it was usually reserved for holidays. After the initial hugs, as my parents were unloading the car, I headed to the bookcase, grabbed the Audubon book and immediately flipped through the pages until I found the puffins illustration. I don’t know what it was about that particular bird that appealed to me so strongly, but I would stare at it for about ten minutes, put it back on the shelf and then go outside to play.

My grandmother was surprised to hear this. It was news to her.

I then advised her that my younger brothers had favorites as well. I pointed out four books on a bottom shelf.

“The boys will definitely want these, so make sure no one else stakes a claim to them.” I pulled out one of the classic novels – Prince Valiant.

“Why do you say that?”

“While I made a beeline to the Audubon book, they headed directly to these. They loved the colorful illustrations and, because they didn’t know how to read yet, their imaginations would tell them the stories.”

Completely taken aback, she stared at me, nonplussed.

“Next time they’re here,” I suggested, “ask which ones they would each like.”

During a subsequent visit, my grandmother – still looking confused – said I was right. “They definitely wanted those books. I had no idea.”

We embarked on a lengthy discussion on the importance of items associated with treasured memories. She brought out a hat box which contained a crocheted bed coverlet which had belonged to her mother and, later, a wooden kitchen tool her mother used to mash potatoes. She felt her mother was with her when she glanced or held it.

Next time your children or grandchildren visit, ask if there is anything you have that is special to them and ask them to share their memories with you. You’ll learn something about them and yourself and, in the process, create new special memories.

My grandparents have since passed. One of my brothers has a three-foot wall divider in his home. Our grandmother’s books lie on top, lovingly displayed. Sometimes, I find myself patting them as I walk by, just to say “hi.”

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