End of Memories=Beginning of Memories

I have a friend who is moving into a new house. Today i helped him move into that new house. helping him meant that i had to help him carry some objects and furniture from his grandfather's old house as his grandfather had given him these things.

i remember standing in the gradfather's workroom / study. i saw all of the grandfather's tools, books, model planes, drafting tools, notepads, cassette tapes of songs from the 1940's, and art objects from Asia. This grandfather is loved by his grandson, the firend i helped move.

As my friend gathered some of his grandfather's prized possessions, the drafting tools and such, it occurred to me that the grandfather has memories attached to these objects. Photos of his late wife, his ship-in-a-bottle accomplishments, the memories of the 1940's, maybe when he danced with the girl who became his wife.

i watched my friend gather his grandfather's things. i knew then the grandfather would live on in his grandson. These items would hold memories for my friend of his grandfather. These items now carry new memories. My friend will also pass on in memories for his descendants with these items as well.

i couldn't help but think that it is right for my friend to have his grandfather's possessions. You know, it would be poetic for my friend, himself now an inventor, to use some of these things to make something new, as did his grandfather. Yet, my friend, can improve in areas where his grandfather did not invent, but rather, where his grandfather only followed.

My friend can set guides for his own offspring to honor him, so that none of his own children ever think that things, rather than right ideas bring happiness, so that not even one of them ever follows only his own want for the golden egg.