One of the reasons for my recent trip was to gather all the FatChance siblings and distribute some of the personal items left unclaimed and unassigned when our parents passed away. None of the things were of particular intrinsic value, but they are still the stuff of memory and shared history, and therefore beyond price. So, I am now the custodian of my father’s shoe brush, and of my mother’s bronzed baby shoe, and her class ring - if only for a little while, until they are shuffled and reassigned again someday, by my children or theirs.
My sisters insisted that this little green viewfinder, kept for many years in my father’s sock drawer, should go to me. If you hold it to the light and peer through you are rewarded with a tiny image of three-year-old me.