With some families it's wedding dresses.
With others it's some lovely old china. Or silver teapots. Or oil paintings.
With us?
I'll give you the story.
Yorkville. 1970 or thereabouts. Before it went all trendy and millionaire-rowish on us.
I have a brand new pair of hipster white jeans and need to find the perfect accessory.
And in those days in Yorkville amongst the headshops and coffee shops and bars were little leather shops which sold jesus-sandals and weedbags and other handmade bits and bobs.
And there I found it. Not realizing that I was buying a legacy that would be passed down for centuries.
My white jeans and subsequent blue jeans wore out but the accessory lived on. I passed it on to my husband, who wore it for years. In turn, he passed it to our daughters and ditto. It makes the ever-ready battery look lifeless.
And Grandgirl is here for a month. And guess what she's wearing?
This precious heirloom. Looking as fresh and as new as ever.
And here it is:
The Family Belt.
It should be good for another six generations.
Priceless.
