First, my apologies for not responding to the Daily Prompts the last couple of days; Friday I wasn’t home, so you got a Musical Interlude Friday selection that was a standalone kind of thing, and yesterday I just couldn’t think of anything to say about it, and I didn’t want to force it.
Now, on to today’s prompt — I have inherited some lovely pieces of jewelry from relatives over the years, I even have my great-grandmother’s dresser, which I received when my grandmother died 21 years ago. However, the most priceless thing or things I have are family stories that we tell during the holidays and other memories I have from my childhood. I’ve talked about The Turkey Story™ before and how my sister and I love telling that story every Thanksgiving, even though what really happened, didn’t happen the way the story plays out. There was no tidal wave of gravy, even if it’s goddamn funny to picture in one’s mind. Then there’s the story of how my dad got the nickname “The Mad Bomber.” He and his friends liked to make homemade cherry bombs when they were younger, and well, the cops were called once in the middle of the night to haul my dad to the police station…needless to say, my grandmother was NOT thrilled. Don’t worry, no property was destroyed, no one was hurt/killed/maimed. Things like that are more priceless to me than anything. I can’t put a value on that. If something happened to my home tomorrow, I would miss my dresser and everything else I have, but I’d still have my memories and The Turkey Story.