Objects Of The Past

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Objects of the Past The things that I have been given, were given to me by people who are all gone. When I was a child I had a habit of receiving a gift, usually some type of jewelry, and losing or ruining it. I was a rowdy, romping tom boy that climbed trees, road bikes and skateboards, jumped off roofs and held no value in stuff or things. It’s not that I lacked respect for my gifts, it’s that I hadn’t quite grasped the value of them. Now that I’m twenty years old, I long to hold a piece of my grandparents in my hands. I wish I had something to serve as a memory of them but unfortunately all I have are some old dusty photographs. Over the years I’ve lost a white gold sapphire ring about four sizes too big given to me as a birthday present from my Grandma Nanette who died when I was twelve, a gold necklace with an Arabic prayer engraved on the front lost while swinging from the monkey bars given to me by my grandparents in Jordan whom I never met, I lost my mothers ruby engagement ring while making mud pies, and scratched the face off a braided yellow and white gold watch while scooting around the neighborhood with the boys. In her essay, “The Uncommon Life of Common Objects”, Akiko Busch describes her two sons relationship with “a small, flat wooden box with the picture of a house on it. The box had a small slot, which contained a drawer with a thin disc, just big enough to hold a quarter, carved in its surface.” She speaks of her boys getting older and eventually replacing this small wooden box with other prized possessions such as “figurines and basketball cards, then later their snowboards, backpacks, cameras.” They started to place higher value in things they had chosen for themselves which seems to bring more importance in objects. Now that I’m a little older, when I’m given jewelry by a loved one, I cherish every piece because I don’t know if it’s going

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