This is my father's pocketknife I found in his car after he died. It reminded me of being 12 years old when he gave me his old pocketknife back then, and the meaning of the memory it holds.



Here's the link to my narrative podcast series on heirlooms on iTunes

Here's the link on Spreaker

Here's the link on Soundcloud

Sometimes the gift doesn't sparkle or shine, sometimes it holds the hope that things will get better. 
--Pocketknife podcast narrative.