QOTD: one more time with feeling

question of the day: what is the most meaningful thing you own and why?

I've got the ring finger from the first person I ever killed. I keep it in my wallet. I suck on it sometimes.

Peace of mind.

A 2007 Mustang GT

my pets - they give me back more than any other possession possibly could.

the white gold compact my grandfather gave my grandmother for her birthday in 1946 with engraving on it

The most meaningful thing I own is a pocket knife that my dad gave me when I was 13. He engraved my name and "Merry Christmas" on it by hand. It's a little rusty now, but I still have it because it was very special to me at the time. That was the same year my dad got sick and died, so it's one of the last things he ever gave me.

Ooh. This is introspective. All things I own or have are meaningful in their own way. It is not possible to measure them with a ruler. I have to find out the least common multiple or the greatest common denominator. Can’t answer your question today.

its not something i own currently, but i will someday (or so i hope). there is ONE picture of my grandmother who died before i was born. we look very similiar and i hear from my relatives we share many qualities, so its special to me.

If this is one of those "what would you save from a burning house?" questions, I'll say the household pets. They're so pweshush.

My motorcycle. Nothing else on this earth brings me the same joy.

I have had the same acoustic guitar for the last 11 years. I call her Melinda, after the first girl I fell in love with, ever. Melinda has been by my side through almost all of my past relationships. The good and the bad. She has shared my experiences along the entire east coast and Canada. Through all friendships, experiences and emotions, she has been there to help me sound out the things I couldn’t put into words as well as assist in the things that I could. When there wasn’t someone to talk to or someone that could relate, Melinda has always been faithful. Scarred with the abuse of the road, she still sings as lovely as the birds on a spring morning. And yet still show her southern blues origins. The two of us have learned a lot from each other. She seems to know each note before I even play it. I could replace her for any newer fancier guitar, but it wouldn’t be Melinda.