Little things can mean a lot.

[Belegon]

Hello everyone.... just a little question. What things can you quickly think of that exist in your house that are deeply personally satisfying you that others might overlook. By which I mean that they are not in a place of obvious importance and are not an item like a wedding album, or pictures of your children. Something that if you suddenly had to entrust someone who perhaps was a friend but had not known you for too long, might somehow make their way to a yard sale or goodwill without the friend having realized they were that important?

I'lll start... I am a huge fan of the San Diego Padres. I've followed them since I first had any interest in sports when I was a wee lad. I was a season ticket holder for more than ten years, before distance made that a null. I wrote a paid blog about them in the early naughts (2000-2010) that was well respected enough to have several thousand daily readers and make it onto Sports Illustrated's radar to the point where they mentioned my blog in their MLB preview issue one year. It also generated MLB press credentials for me. Not to the level that I had locker room access, but I had access and notification from the Pads whenever there was going to be a press conference and even got chosen to ask questions a few times. I have a fairly large amount of Padres memorabilia. Some is obviously valuable, like the signed bat I personally received from Tony Gwynn, the signed jersey from Trevor Hoffman, my pictures with those players and others. Some could very easily get "lost in the crowd" of my other items.

I played ball for almost all of my younger days. I quit playing in high school due to some personal politics involved mostly with being a non-roman catholic attending an all-boy Augustinian high school. However, I was good enough to turn around and make my college team after not having played for several years. I even played (very briefly) professionally.

I have, mixed in with many other jerseys, a SD Padres road jersey from the mid-90's era that is an actual game worn major league jersey with my name on the back of it. I WAS NOT good enough to make it to the major leagues. However, my last name is common enough and I had some connections that allowed me to acquire a jersey from another player with my same last name who had a "cup of coffee" in the majors. I own one of the jerseys he wore. it's not placed anywhere special, so it wouldn't stand out from the multiple other game used jerseys I've acquired over the years. ( NOT ALL Padres, but mostly so) It is dear to me. It is the closest I will ever get to actually putting on the uniform of my favorite team and stepping on to the field to play a game.

So that otherwise unremarkable jersey (which even fits me!) is important to me, but could be completely overlooked in the overwhelming amount of memorabilia.

ETA: I thought about including a picture, but that would reveal my actual last name...

 

[THBGato]

Pictures done for me by my children.

That's about it really. I like my stuff, but I could live without it really. Probably comes from having moved house 30 times in less than 50 years - teaches you to streamline!

 

[cdstefi]

Our most important, save from a fire possessions are probably my teddy bear I've had from age 3 and my wife's Cabbage Patch Doll she owned from similar. They're both well worn and loved and a bit shabby but irreplaceable.

 

[Bloodandglitter]

I'm quite proud of my Marvel collection, my filmography of Tim Roth and Clive Owen movies and TV shows, and I'm a Chelsea FC fan and so I have Chelsea memorabilia from the last 20 years.
And I collect Snoopy memorabilia too

 

[Bramblethorn]

I have a manufacturing test piece. It's just a metallic rod that's a comfortable size to hold in my hand, but it has a pleasing heft to it.

 

[Nynah]

I have a very old and worn tote bag from The Strand Bookstore in New York City. My grandmother bought it for me when she took me there for the first time in 2006 and it has seen many books pass through it since then. As she was the one person who encouraged my love of reading, it has quite a bit of sentimental value. I should probably get it framed at some point, before it falls apart completely.

 

[MillieDynamite]

My father has a bayonet he uses to open letters. It's old, really old, vintage WWII, and just sits in his home office on the desk. No one gives it a second thought. He rarely opens letters with it anymore. Next to it are dog tags, and no one even notices them. They're on a beaded chain, rusty, but you can make out a name stamped into them, a serial number, and blood type. If I didn't know about them, I would think they are anything but yard sale junk. They were his fathers, and he wore the dog tags around his neck from high school until a couple of years ago. The knife and dog tags mean more to him than anything he owns other than a ring he wears at times. It was his father's 30th anniversary gift from Pops' mom. I have a small junk ring my Pops won for me at the first carnival I ever went to. A few months after they took me in, he showed me how to shoot and win at a carnie game rigged to keep you from winning. He shot the first time, aiming dead on and marking where it hit, and adjusted his aim for the bend in the sights. After that, Pops emptied a clip, another clip, and another, blowing the bullseye out all three times. I got the ring on the first one, and after six times intotal, I got a big assed panda. I still have both; they are my most important possessions that look unimportant.

 

[SinclairGroupLLP]

My office is littered with movie props. Most of them are sci fi related, but there are some things in there that I would be impressed if anybody knew what they came from. Maybe not worth a lot, but they’re important to me.

 

[Erozetta]

My pet monster, a Roger Rabbit stuffed animal, and a popple.

Throughout the roughest parts of my childhood those three things were constant companions for me.

My mom threw them all away not long after I turned 7 because they were "childish" and I needed to grow up. Which I did, quite fast when it became apparent my older sister couldn't take care of her kid and the kid was left with me, sometimes keeping me out of school because "someone needed to stay home and watch the baby."

I told my husband about them in passing once and he apparently spent a few years tracking down replacements. For my 30th birthday he gave them to me and I don't think I've ever cried harder. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me and it was the thing that made me realize I needed to go to therapy and deal with the fact that I didn't really have a childhood. They weren't toys that were originally bought for me, but were given to me without any expectations attached. My cousin gave me the popple. An aunt gave me the Roger Rabbit stuffed animal. And my brother gave me the My pet monster because it had purplish-pink hair and therefore, as a boy, he couldn't play with it.

Most of the toys I had as a kid came with baggage. I got a toy for not telling or for being quiet for days at a time/for not expressing any needs to my parents or taking care of my own needs, or because someone felt guilty for something they did to me. Those three stuffed animals were the only toys I had that didn't have hurt, shame, or guilt attached to them.

So, they've become a reminder of what I've already survived and accomplished in spite of my upbringing. They are important to me.

 

[KittyOfSteele]

My books. Even books that are not mine, but are from the library I work at, as I have a few with me because I either borrowed them, or I'm keeping them temporarily while I get new space to put them in.

Two of the books that I own are signed by the author; one of them being a collector's edition that is one of a kind... sort of? It's a collector's piece because less than 50 were printed this way, and crafted by hand, but each copy is different, so I have one of those. There's also another book that I saved from going to the shredder, which is a very rare copy in the sense that this book might not have been for sale. It was on a library that I used to work at, and when I noticed it was going to the shredder I asked my boss if I could keep it. They said that anything in that specific room was going to the trash, so I could keep anything that I wanted, and I chose this book. It is a piece of history of my home town, and it actually shows some facts that I didn't learn at school, or researching on my own. Back in the day, when I researched my country's history, I didn't just go online. I hit the libraries, I went to museums, I even talked to experts on the subject, like historians, professors, and even the local cronistas. Heck, back in those days, a family member worked for a nonfiction author transcribing and proofreading his book, which was actually about the country's history, so I wouldn't call myself lucky, I was blessed.

I'm... somehow remembering one time I went to the beach and overheard four dudes in a bar talking about our history as if it was Middle Earth's lore.

Aside from my books, well, my notebooks. One of the notebooks that I have is a journal that I inherited from someone I was very close to. He died around seven years ago; lost the fight against cancer, but he did live a damn good life. In his deathbed, he requested me to have his journal because I was the only one who would understand me, and he was right... Whenever I'm lost, sometimes I go after his journal. Last time was during Valentine's day in which I truly mourned my last relationship, but also realized that I'm going under a complex labyrinth of feelings, so... I read his journal and found an answer.

I also have my own journal, spread upon 4 volumes, a spin-off that spans across 8 volumes, and another spin-off that is just one volume with a companion pocket notebook, which is pretty much my entire sex life and sex thoughts. Hey, I'm not the only one who has done something like this; read "My Secret Life" if you don't believe sex journals are a thing. In fact, the pocket notebook sparked a few stories that are either on the way, or published here.

There's also notebooks that follow my D&D, ICRPG, and VtM games, with a couple of characters created for fun to never be used, and a notebook that I'm using as a player to log the current campaign we're playing now, which is a story that I could turn into a Literotica novel if I wanted to, as long as I remove the conventions from the table... I may not be the GM for that campaign, but that universe is my creation. I also have my 'Writing the Same Thing for a Year' challenge in an envelope: all 100+ days, and more in the incoming days will be there, a scroll that I'm using to worldbuild my pornotopia, and my drawings.

I would add my guitar here, but I don't have an emotional attachment to it. My first guitar, however, was given to me by the person who also gave me his journal on his deathbed, but I don't play it anymore because the neck seems to not be wide enough to allow good placement for the fingers around the frets in the first string; an annoying defect that it doesn't matter much with whole chords, but it makes fingerstyle impossible to play. I'm still yet to find a luthier who can fix it.

 

[Dearelliot]

My arrowheads and stone axe head I found, My WWII Luger pistol, Old plaster statue of a bear 8 inches high. Sire pictures hanging,

 

[Lifestyle66]

When I first started reading the opening paragraph "in your house that are deeply personally satisfying you that others might overlook," I quickly thought of my wife's vagina. She uses that to deeply satisfy me! But when you went on to say a friend might put out in a yard sell, I realized that was wrong. (But she is rather adventurous, so who knows?)

My mother's mother was raised in an orphanage from the age of eight, and the orphans never had much. And having worked in that orphanage after she grew up, grandma raised her kids the same way. My mother grew up with that same spartan belief that everyTHING should be useful. Otherwise, get rid of it. And my mother raised us with that same spartan belief.

So, there is nothing I have other than my wife, kids and grandkids (my parents are deceased) which I would think is worth keeping. Friends and family are worth keeping. Everything else is from the past, and I always look to the future.

 

[ShelbyDawn57]

I have a zip lock bag about half full of sand and another with some small rocks and pebbles and an odd shaped stick in it. the sand is from a sailing trip to Tahiti I took with my dad, and the rocks and stick are from the last time I went sailing with him before he passed.

 

[glynndah]

I have a collection of things from my great grandparents. They were living in a large tent with six little girls and a dog, eking out a living trapping "rats" {which I really hope were muskrats} on the river. I have two photographs of them and on a table beside the family is an earthenware bowl my great grandmother used every day to make bread which I still use. I have a long wicked looking knife made from an old saw blade, the handle worn smooth and polished by generations of hands. My great grandfather's battered old meerschaum pipe, just the pipe not the stem, his chipped mustache cup and a red and white checked gingham handkerchief are tucked away on a shelf in my kitchen along with a biscuit cutter fashioned from a cloverine salve tin.

 

[VallesMarineris]

My office is littered with movie props. Most of them are sci fi related, but there are some things in there that I would be impressed if anybody knew what they came from. Maybe not worth a lot, but they’re important to me.

Coincidentally, I just saw this bit of film history, which I think will amuse you:

https://nofilmschool.com/Original-lightsaber-prop