Letting Go of Keepsakes

When I was growing up, I had a very talented aunt.

Every year she knitted me a sweater for Christmas.

My older brothers got socks.

These were not just ordinary sweaters.

They had patterns.

One year she knitted me a poncho.

Another year, in addition to the sweater,

she knitted my Barbie and Ken some outfits.

I can still remember what those outfits looked like.

Barbie had a matching purse and hat.

(Can you even imagine that kind of detail?)

My aunt has since passed away.

Her granddaughter now has three daughters of her own.

I sent them my last sweater (I thought) and the doll clothes.

But look what I found this week.

See what I mean about the pattern in the sweater?

I'm sorry it's blurry, but the label says hand made with my aunt's name.

I've boxed it up to send it to her great-granddaughters.

But I also found this shirt.

I had forgotten about it.

It's a chambray shirt that she appliqued

for me when I was in high school.

I put it in the box, too.

Then I took it out.

Look at all the details. 

She stitched up and down the placket, the pockets, and the collar.

Look at the buttonholes.

She also stitched around the cuffs.

I collected owls at the time.

This is the back of the shirt.

I tried it on.

It still fits.

I don't think it's going back

in the box. 

I'm not sure if  I'll ever wear it.

I just can't seem to let go.

I love you, Aunt Vic. 

Thanks for all the memories.