The oldest thing I own is a stuffed lion puppet, complete with an opening in his seat for a hand that can animate him (a little bit)
Actually, I was thinking about this prompt for a while and this is probably pretentious, but the oldest thing I own (ok I guess I don’t own it, I am it) are my genes, eh? I’ve always been really fascinated by the fact that I and every single person alive today is a remnant, a reminder, a surviving creature that is evidence of a beginning of human kind and I suppose the world in general. As far as I know, none of us sprouted from the ground fully formed or was beamed down to earth from some other place. Our bodies are just truly of the Earth and will never leave it. I mean aren’t we as old as time itself?
My dad gave me the lion, but I can’t remember when that actually happened. I just know because that’s what my sister or aunt told me. My dad used to travel a lot when we were kids, for his work, and every time he went somewhere, he’d bring me and my sister back a souvenir each - pink leather purses knit by Native American Indian people (supposedly), t-shirts from seaside places, printed with dolphin and aquatic motifs. On more than one occasion, he brought back Mrs. Fields chocolate chip cookies - yes, in the red tins - those defined the chocolate chip cookie of my childhood as I can’t remember my mother ever making them from scratch. It was amazing to me that they seemed to travel across the country and arrived at our home as if they were freshly baked, soft and sweet.
Anyway, I’ve liked this whole “writing prompt” thing I’ve been doing to keep myself busy. In an effort to reset, I regularly throw away or remove any traces of the past years - threw out those notebooks, journals, notes from friends, magazine clippings I cut out, drawings I made. To the point that I have very little reminders of the past…but putting these things in text that I don’t normally have the pleasure to recall is such a freaking joy. It’s been a little like analyzing a work of art, but the work of art is me. And I’m trying to understand it a little better by scrutinizing the history and the context of the work.