Why I find value in seemingly meaningless trinkets.

I carry a garage door opener on my key chain. I’ve had it for more than a decade. It’s broken, and I have no idea whose garage it opens.

I’m not a freak. I swear.

Flash back 10+ years: Gram [my maternal grandmother] had just bought a used Suzuki Samarai from a local guy on the island I grew up on. The first time she took me for a ride in her new car, I started opening different compartments to explore. When I got to the glove box, I saw something stashed in the back. It looked like a keychain. Read the rest of this entry »