Someone Else's Keepsake

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Today, I welcome guest blogger and buddy, David Aft, who wanted to surprise his lovely wife with a special gift and a story on this day of love. David sent his story to me last week and asked that I wait and post it today. Happy Valentine's Day, Pauli Aft!

Enjoy David's story titled, "Someone Else's Keepsake."

From time to time the spirits who look after the weather issue a perfect mid-winter day.  Sunshine animates the crisp air and a little breeze reminds you that it’s not quite spring.

It was on just such a morning that I noticed a garage sale at a small house near my office.  The purveyors were busily answering questions and collecting a dollar here, fifty cents there and generally making good-natured small talk.

One of them told me the house had belonged to his sister, who had recently passed away after a long struggle with dementia.  Hundreds of pieces of her estate were gently organized in the open carport and driveway.  As I surveyed the diverse offerings, I thought about the things we accumulate in our lives.  We accumulate experience, knowledge, insight and perhaps even a little wisdom.  We also accumulate a host of worldly goods that survive us as a collection of artifacts—a modest Rosetta stone of our earthly lives.

This notion added depth and a certain poignancy to the sale, and for a moment, I was not looking at a collection of knick-knacks and lightly used kitchen ware, but a final testament.

Amidst the possessions, David spotted a tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower.

Amidst the possessions, David spotted a tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower.

Amidst the sprawl, a short set of metal shelves held about forty smaller items.  These seemed a little more personal and a couple of them caught my attention.  A small brass replica of the Eiffel Tower peeked out from behind a very interesting lucite paperweight from the seventies.  I asked the gentlemen working the sale about the tower, and he looked at it and told me he remembered it was special to his sister, but he didn’t know or recall why.

My imagination raced just a little, as I pictured a young woman looking at the miniature and dreaming of going to Paris.  Maybe someone had given it to her as a souvenir from a memorable week visiting outdoor cafes and museums.  Maybe it was her keepsake, a memento of a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

David and Pauline Aft posing with the grand Eiffel Tower.

David and Pauline Aft posing with the grand Eiffel Tower.

These thoughts were quickly followed by an abrupt realization that those stories would never be told, as they were the provenance of a woman whose memories had left her long before her quiet demise.

I stood there and realized I was surrounded by a sea of keepsakes, de-tethered from the memories that made them special—once again, empty vessels perhaps waiting to be given root in a new imagination.

I have a friend and fellow garage sale enthusiast who told me some things are just not meant to end up in the junk pile, and I think I agree with her—sometimes a keepsake can be repurposed, with its own story and pedigree enriched by another chapter.

I purchased the tiny tower, along with the lucite paperweight from the Seventies.  I plan to keep the lucite piece at my office and give the Eiffel Tower to my beautiful wife on Valentine’s Day as a reminder of our spectacular and romantic trip to Paris a couple of years ago.  They will each enjoy life anew and join the family of keepsakes that accent our story and become, all too briefly, the keepers of our own memories.

—David Aft, February 2016 (for his wife, Pauline)

Thanks for the blog post, David. And again, Happy Valentine's Day Project Keepsake readers. Keep those stories coming, and remember, everyone has a keepsake, and every keepsake has a story to tell.

The Garnet Earring

Twenty-seven years ago today, my sweetheart gave me a pair of heart-shaped, garnet earrings. Gene and I had dated long-distance for about five months when Valentine’s Day rolled around, and I was especially happy—and relieved—to have someone to share the day and evening with that year.

Not to sound pathetic, but I was somewhat broken during that time. On the outside, I appeared fine, but I was empty on the inside. My longterm college boyfriend and I had ended our relationship the year before, and I was hesitant about dating again. I surrounded my heart with a fortress and wouldn’t let anyone penetrate its walls.

But Gene was persistent. He made me smile. More importantly, he made me laugh—a lot.

"A single heart-shaped, garnet earring contains so many memories and emotions." —Amber

"A single heart-shaped, garnet earring contains so many memories and emotions." —Amber

And so by Valentine’s Day in 1987, I had started to let my guard down, and he seized the moment. He drove the 105 miles in his little white Honda CRX to see me after my classes, stopping on Piedmont Avenue to buy a dozen yellow roses from one of those street vendors who walk up and down the road in the median. He gave me the bouquet followed by a tiny box containing the heart-shaped, garnet earrings—a symbol of his love.

And that was that. We continued to date and married in 1990.

The earrings were my favorite pieces of jewelry until I lost one a few years later. What can you do with one earring? Nothing. Gene rushed to the jewelry store and bought me another pair of garnet hearts, but it just wasn’t the same.

I refused to discard the lone earring—there were too many memories associated with it.

And so, I keep it in my jewelry box as a keepsake. I pick it up from time to time and remember, and smile, and thank the universe for persistence.

Happy Valentine’s Day! May your day be filled with love, kindness, and keepsakes!