I was pretty sure I lost my made-in-Germany, Solingen hunting knife that I've had since my teenage years or earlier. I thought it was lost like things inevitably get lost when you move. I had accepted the loss. But today, unexpectedly while looking for something else, I found it. It feels pretty damn good.
I'm not sure why it feels good, though. The likelihood of me ever using this knife is very slim. I may sharpen it. I may rejuvenate the leather sheath again. But that's all. It will sit in a drawer until I die. Then somebody will get an old knife, and they will know nothing of the memories associated with it.
The value of the knife is only my memories of using it when I was young. Those memories will come to a screeching halt one day. F'ing hell. Time marches on...
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