It's small leather box that sat on my father's dressing table as long as I can remember.
I loved looking into it as a child, it held his cufflings. I found it in my mother's dresser after she died. In it was a photo of me as a child and a photo I'd given her of my dog. It seemed incredibly sweet and heartbreaking to find it with those little treasures she put in long ago.
I was given the watch she wore daily including the day she died. Her date of death, the 4th, is recorded forever on the face and the time was about an hour after she died. The watch continued to move slowly, over days, to 5 PM range, and then it stopped. I always surmised her energy had melted into the time piece from her once live wrist keeping it going like an invisible battery. They gave me her two rings and I put all the items in the little leather box to keep at my bedside. I press them against my skin sometimes. I know she's in there.
