We all have them: the little objects we can never quite bring ourselves to throw away. They roll around in the backs of so-called \u201cjunk drawers,\u201d waiting to be rediscovered and remembered. Or perhaps they have been given a place of honor, such as a shoebox on a shelf in a closet, with \u201ckeepsakes\u201d or \u201cmemories\u201d scrawled across the lid in permanent marker.<\/p>\n\n
To an outsider, these things seem meaningless. But to us? They are tied to precious memories, and that is why we keep them. <\/p>\n\n
More often than not, we do not cherish these keepsakes <\/a> for their price tag. They are special because they were given to us by family members or because they come from our own holidays and adventures<\/a>. They are not just \u201cthings\u201d but part of us and our memories. When we bring them out, it is often to feel the echo of a hug from long ago.<\/p>\n\n Grandpa’s pocket watch may have been made in a factory along with hundreds of other identical pocket watches, but his personal watch went in and out of his pocket so often that the inscription on the back is now barely legible. Looking at that faded inscription, we can travel back in time to our childhood when we visited Grandpa and he would pull the watch out to hint that we were late. Then he would give us a big hug. <\/p>\n\n Objects and memories walk hand in hand, whispering to each as they go. Remember this? Remember that? They are proof of a life lived among those we held dearest and of the memories we still carry with us.<\/p>\n\n Each small keepsake stirs a strong feeling. Take the pencil that you picked up in school because the boy or girl you fancied left it behind \u2013 how often have you felt across the indents made by their teeth in the yellow paint? You can relive the thrill of first love whenever you see a chewed pencil. <\/p>\n\n Such objects make our footsteps through life a physical experience; they are the tiny markers that prove we were here. The rosette won for a second-place finish on sports day, the gym trophy you worked so hard for and the article that Mum lovingly clipped out of the newspaper detailing your academic or sporting success. This is proof that you were here and that you achieved.<\/p>\n\n The objects we safely stow away also tell the stories of our dreams. How often do we keep pamphlets for the places we hope to visit? You are not alone in having such dreams. Our parents and our grandparents probably also collected pamphlets of destinations that they dreamed of visiting. Perhaps even more than that: Dad’s ukelele in the back of a cupboard may be the remnant of his desire to visit Hawaii, to be surfing and singing on the beach at the end of a sunburnt day. That dream may well not been realised, but it is remembered because of the keepsake in his cupboard.<\/p>\n\n Keepsakes are the stories of how we have lived and the dreams we had. They make tangible our connections with others, our relationships, and what we have shared with each other. These can be a mix tape<\/a>, a love letter, a lock of hair, or the small things that we pass from generation to generation, like Grandpa’s pocket watch. The memories he made with his watch are very different to our own, but they are all valuable in making the watch a perfect keepsake.<\/p>\n\n Sadly, when we lose such personal items, we lose parts of ourselves. We maybe move one too many times and lose one more box, and, in that moment, another part of who we are has gone.<\/p>\n\n It is possible that during a change of home, Dad’s collection of goofy shot glasses from a family road trip are shattered (even including the one you knocked off the shelf as a child and haphazardly glued back together in the hope that he wouldn’t notice)? Without that glass collection, how much longer can we hang onto that memory of that road trip? What are we without these small keepsakes?
\n<\/p>\n\n Keepsakes are cherished for a reason. Each one tells a unique story. Yet only the keeper knows the full story, and unless they choose to share that with us, it is gone for ever. Grandpa\u2019s pocket watch holds many memories, but there are also many mysteries surrounding it. How did Grandpa acquire it? Was it a gift from a lost love, an heirloom or a proud purchase after receiving his first pay packet? Only he knows the tale.<\/p>\n\n Keepsakes live in our cupboards and drawers, but they are a fundamental part of who we are and the lives we have led. Perhaps it is time to give these treasured memories their proper place by committing their details to paper. That way, future generations will have aunderstanding of their highly personal meaning.<\/p>\n\nLives told in keepsakes<\/h2>\n\n
When keepsakes are lost<\/h2>\n\n
Telling our stories<\/h2>\n\n