Tell us the story of your most-prized possession.
It’s the final day of the challenge already?! Let’s make sure we end it with a bang — or, in our case, with some furious collective tapping on our keyboards. For this final assignment, lead us through the history of an object that bears a special meaning to you.
A family heirloom, a flea market find, a childhood memento — all are fair game. What matters is that, through your writing, you breathe life into that object, moving your readers enough to understand its value.
So I have in the past few weeks on writing 101 mentioned that I found so and so topic challenging or the task given had left me feeling short of suitable written material etc etc. All that is nothing as compared to the surge of emotions I now experience as I researched for this particular topic.
I have over the past couple of days been sifting through my wardrobe, my so called prized material possessions and my boxes of memorabilia trying to figure out which one of these could I term as my most prized possession. I will confess for a (mild) hoarder like me …..this can prove to be additionally challenging.
Should I write about my childhood doll? That one doll (the only doll) I had, her long golden hair, her lovely outfit, her so real shape (in comparison to certain famous unrealistic cousins of date), her blue eyes, all fascinated me as a child. I spent hours imagining that one day I shall grow up to look exactly like her. I wished to own a pair of dungarees just like what my doll wore.
But given the opportunity to make my own fashion choices I instead opted for a pink extra frilly long gown for one of my pre- teen birthdays. I forget which. I do however recollect that dress so clearly. Thrilled as I was to find just the right shade of candy floss pink. The dress bore layers of taffeta frills and pink beads and bows. I will admit it now that it was a nightmare of an outfit, but at the time I was mighty chuffed with my special princess gown. Fortunately I am no longer in possession of the said gown today.
Should I instead vote for that beautiful blue scarf of mine, that one which magically seemed too match nearly all that I wore during my teenage years? It even served as a hair adornment on some occasions. I felt so feminine, floaty and fashionable with that scarf as part of my ensemble. It may have lost its lustre over the years but its soft material and flowing colours still make me feel so good even today.
Then I caught an old photograph, in which I sat smiling proudly atop my first scooter. A gift from my dad, I loved the independence that two wheeler offered me. I enjoyed the feeling of zipping around on that vehicle. I would park it as prominently as I could and walk up with a swagger swinging those keys. In my mind it was a Harley and a Ducati all rolled into one. In reality it was nothing more than a simple Kinetic Pride!
By this stage my entire family was very much involved in this so called research of mine and they were all sifting through my things now. They opened an untouched precious bundle which lay all wrapped up in muslin and protective covering far at the back of my wardrobe. My wedding outfit. It was like opening a long forgotten but very precious piece of jewellery, all silky, white with a hint of gold. The memory of the day, how special I felt, how beautiful I felt, how unexpected circumstances had led me to meet with this man, how loved I felt, the look on my Parents faces…….all irreplaceable memories.
Not really feeling it with any of these (re)discoveries I decided to pack all these things away and put them back in store.
I tackled my more recently hoarded treasures.
The pair of porcelain blue and white clogs. With the words Amsterdam in italics written on it. A beautiful holiday that was, lovely weather, beautiful city, scenic locales. Just the two of us strolling around the streets of Amsterdam. It was bubble wrapped alongside my beautiful snow globe. One shake of the globe and the little white pieces floating within brought back vivid images of Salzburg in winter. Christmas markets, freezing temperatures, sipping Gluehwein gorgeous mountains in the background, families enjoying the festivities, bundled up rushing to Church. By far one of the most idyllic holidays we had as a family.
I found my wedding photo album too. Seriously was I that skinny at any stage in my life? I had forgotten all about that. UGH that’s just depressing. Away with the album then!!
Neatly packed in a sealed bag was a bunch of tiny clothes. My child’s infant clothes. Still soft, still smelling slightly of that distinctive babies smell, talcum powder and freshener. Of no use now to us, I continue to hold onto these baby clothes because I couldn’t bear to part with them.
Left at the bottom of the box but by no way a reflection of this memorabilia’s importance in our life was a small zip lock bag. Holding within its confines a tiny pink hospital name tag from the day my child was born, a piece of umbilical cord and the first tooth sent to the tooth fairy.
As I sat there reminiscing holding onto this bag, it struck me that it is not so much the actual tangible material possession that I hold dear. In every case it is the memories associated that are of value to me.
Small pieces of paper with childish drawings, scribbled pictures, petals from a valentine’s bouquet, stubs of concert tickets, photographs, small gifts all these insignificant in actual monetary value but priceless in reminiscence value.
Memories of each stage in my life, memories of each significant happening in my life, memories of the blessings bestowed.
I would now have to say this to me is to be termed as my most prized treasure, my most valuable possession…… the pictures in my mind, the emotions attached to those memories, the significance each one of those memories have had in my life. It is intangible, may well be considered insignificant to someone else but to me these memories are my most prized possessions.