The Stuff of Things

As a companion thought to Mike Cope's recent posting of favorite places, I am curious about favorite things. I must admit, my first reaction is to think of my family, but where I live you cannot own people. Besides, that answer is too easy. Rather, I wonder about tangible things. Items, mementos, knick knacks, stuff. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens kind of stuff.

For me, one of my most prized possessions hangs on the stone wall above our fireplace. It is a sketch of our three kids sitting in the grass in our back yard. When we went to the artist's studio for the final sitting and he turned it around for us to see I immediately knew this was a treasured heirloom.

I also have a picture of my parents from the night they got married. Dad got out of the Air Force that Wednesday and got married that night after church. He jokingly says he gained his freedom and lost it again that same day, but the young, naive, excited couple in that photo is a great image.

Finally, there is a black and white picture of my wife that I keep at work. I keep it there because she hates it. In fact, following George Costanzas lead, I dug it out of the trash after she threw it away. I don't know how old she is in the picture but I know she's hot! I think she doesn't like it because it's too glamorous but I like it, so there.

There are more little items here and there that I would probably fight you for but that scenario is not likely since they are worth very little to anyone else. And yet, we try so hard to collect things that other people might covet. Now, why is that exactly?