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What Hand-Me-Downs Teach Us About Memory, Value, and Identity

Somewhere in the back of my closet, folded with care but never worn, sits a pale blue cardigan that once belonged to my grandmother. The buttons are loose, and the sleeves are a little short on me. But I’ve moved it across five apartments and three cities without question. I don’t wear it—but I keep it. Not because it’s useful, but because it means something.