Lately, I've been thinking about the things in my possession that have stuck around. Not the items I've purposely saved because of sentimental attachment, but utilitarian things that for no apparent reason have weathered decades of my life and countless moves.
Exhibit one: The green plastic-handled fork that came in the picnic basket given to my ex-husband and me for a wedding present by my friend Kathy, with whom I grew up but with whom I no longer stay in touch. I no longer have the picnic basket but I saved the utensils to use at work. The fork "went missing" a few months back, but I didn't notice it was gone until I went to the restroom one day and found it sitting on a shelf in front of the mirror. Apparently, left behind by someone who had "borrowed" it from my desk. Age: 10 years.
Exhibit two: An orange and white bath towel that made its way to my childhood home after my mom's sister died. Somehow after my own father died last year, it made its way to my new place -- perhaps it was wrapped around a breakable item in a suitcase. The other day I looked in the mirror after my shower and thought, "I am wrapping my hair in the same towel that I wrapped it in when I was in high school." Age: 20+ years.
Exhibit three: A predominantly sky blue tie-dye tank top that my sister brought me back from a trip to San Francisco when I was 16. She doesn't even remember giving it to me. Age: 22 years.