Your comment does a fantastic job highlighting the difference between the copy and the original. You can get useful information from either, and thank goodness for that.

But that talismanic aura of authenticity takes the experience to a whole new level when you interact with *THE* copy. The one touched by _______ (fill in the blank for your own story).

Thank you so much for sharing this marvelous story. This week has been almost unbearably stressful and your shared remembrances and celebrations are cheering me up very much. Hooray!

That was also when I was informed that, during the years 1860-1866, Mahala had a stepson / son-in-law who recorded the daily happenings of his life in a journal … births, deaths, marriages, illnesses, going fishing, making a loom, riding a horse, building a fence, hunting chinquipins, etc., etc., etc. … and that this journal now had a permanent home at the Center for American History on the campus of the University of Texas at Austin …

I was able to get a copy of the journal at that time … and read it and researched it and studied it … and have learned more about the day-to-life of my family than I could have ever hoped to know … but it was just within the past few weeks that I first laid eyes … and hands … on the original 150-year-old treasure itself …

As I carefully turned the pages of that book … with an entry for almost every single day for almost seven years … and containing day-to-day tidbits from the very lives of my kith ‘n kin … I knew the one single page I wanted to view … and that was the day my 2nd great-grandpa married my 2nd great-grandma … as I touched that page, I had a definite awareness of the fact that I was touching an actual 150-year-old piece of paper … that was penned by hands … that touched the hands … of MY Sam and Nellie …

“Thursday, July11th 1861. To day I am engaged as salesman in the store with pretty active trade. Be it remembered & known that Samuel H. Sharp & Miss Mary Alexandrien Lamier, were united together in the bonds of wedlock, & I rather expect at night there was some very sharp shooting took place, this however is only a surmise. Capt. Wrigley & Ed. Jones came in from their camp to attend said wedding, where all passed off pleasantly & agreeably to all in attendance. weather clear & warm.”

My grandma Esther had a huge collection of Robert McDonald pulp mysteries in the garage. I wish I had kept a few after she died, but I was only 18 at the time and didn’t know much about much.

On the other hand, I have a lovely soft yellow sweater she knit for me that I can’t bear to get rid of even though I will never wear it. Yellow is soooo not my color. But when I see that bit of yellow peeking out from under something else in the drawer, it cheers me to think of Esther and how she would knit at Dodgers games…while keeping score.

Do you have a sentimental object that makes you feel closer to someone? Share your story by leaving a comment…

My dad loved these books, and I remember how the red and white matching set always had a special place in my parents’ library. Knowing that my dad had treasured the books and had read every one of them, I couldn’t bring myself to sell them or give them away. So, I boxed them up and took them home with me. They sat neglected in my back hallway for months.

One day, when I finally got tired of tripping over boxes, I opened one up and pulled out some of the books. I flipped through a few of them and discovered — much to my surprise — that my father had made notations on the flyleaf of each one. In each book, he had written the date he had finished reading it, and he also signed his initials. He had read some of the books numerous times.

Seeing dad’s handwriting and the dates he had read the books sort of made me feel as if I had barged in… like I intruded on a private connection between the man and his beloved stories. Even so, it was very comforting to know the date that dad had last enjoyed each story and had held them in his kind hands.

So now when I miss my father, I get one of his books out. I have not read any of the books… I can’t bring myself to do that yet. But it is amazing to me how simply holding one of his books in my hands makes me feel like he is with me… and how the pain of missing him is slightly dulled by the sweet nearness of his memory.