My grandmother’s precious heirloom: antique bone china that was shipped from England at the turn of the 19th century.
My precious heirloom: Sam Adams pint advertising glasses, which came with an Oktoberfest six-pack in autumn 2012.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: her carefully preserved satin and hand-spun lace wedding dress that was sewn by her mother.
My Precious Heirloom: My wedding dress that was bought off the discount shelf at David’s Bridal so I could afford an open bar at my wedding.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: an antique pocket watch that was given to Grandpa by the widow of an old war buddy.
My Precious Heirloom: An old Fitbit Inspire that might still work if I could find a way to charge it.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: a record with the first song she and grandpa ever danced to.
My Precious Heirloom: The “bUmPngRiNd” playlist that my college friend put on my iPod Nano, which actually has some decent songs in it if I could find a way to top it up.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: old scrapbooks and photo albums that record the life and times of my ancestors up to the invention of photography.
My precious heirloom: my iCloud password.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: a sapphire engagement ring that has been passed down through generations.
My Precious Heirloom: A Forever 21 dream catcher earring that has a chance I will ever find my partner and an even greater chance that dream catcher earrings will be fashionable again.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: a late 19th century Chippendale desk that has been meticulously restored and serviced.
My precious heirloom: a bed from the Hemnes collection by Ikea that I replace every time I move.
My Grandmother’s Precious Heirloom: Great Aunt Ruth’s Secret Beef Stroganoff Recipe, written in elegant cursive on a note card hidden in a small locker.
My precious heirloom: A rock-hard frozen Tupperware filled a third of the way with spaghetti sauce that has been kept in the freezer since 2015.
My Grandmother’s Precious Heirloom: A cherished quilt that every woman in the family contributed a square to, with an empty space to add my own emblem, symbolizing my place in the matrilineal order.
My precious heirloom: The edition of “Quilting for Dummies” that Grandma gave me for Christmas in a passive-aggressive manner and which I will never open in a passive-aggressive manner.
My Grandmother’s Precious Heirloom: A work of art that my great-great-great-grandfather smuggled across the Atlantic and sold to start a new life in America, and which he then bought back after growing it up in the 1849 gold rush had met.
My precious heirloom: the meme of the Bernie mittens.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: the cedar hope box that she received from her mother before her wedding.
My precious heirloom: a box full of NSync bobblehead dolls that might one day be worth something.
My grandmother’s precious heirloom: a box of old love letters that she and grandpa wrote to each other when grandpa was abroad at the beginning of their advertising. The stationery still smells like the perfume Grandma sprayed on it.
My precious heirloom: an antique Nokia cell phone with some of the old “u up?” Texts that my husband sent at the beginning of our advertising. If I could find a way to charge it
