This morning I woke up thinking about dead blood relatives and others. I'm probably one of the few people around who has a hand grenade casing for a family hand-it-down. Well, Pop Murray was the former owner because he worked in a malleable fittings foundry for 46 years that retooled for grenade casings and other war materials during WWI. He even was on the troop train to basic training camp on November 11, 1918...and was told to get off because the War was over!I used to have a really neat looking shaving mug from great grandpappy Sexton's 1890s days when they used to be kept in the local barber shop and used for special customers. Sadly, I used it for a coffee cup, being the practical Scots-descendant that I am, dropped it on the concrete basement floor and swept up what was left into a trash can.
Why do I mention this stuff? Well, it occurred to me that the REAL family heirlooms are flesh and blood, as well as the memories you have of them. Many's the times I've wished I had talked to grand parents about themselves and their parents/grand parents so I could have a better knowledge of the gene pool from which I sprang. You young'uns reading this...get to know the old heads in your family so you don't have to wish you did somewhere down the road. You might find they're really interesting folks.
I guess this might fall under the extended implication of "honor your father and mother" in the sense that you actually pay attention to what they and grandparents (great grandparents, if you're family's long-lived or reproduced young) have to say. Give it a whirl!
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