The passing of time trains us to trust the one who always has us in his hand. All is stripped away. The apartment has been purged. One dozen trips to Goodwill. Three dozen trips to the trash bin. Pictures from the walls have been claimed by the three sons and each of them, and their wives or daughters, have claimed small things that have been assigned value. No one questions why that one thing has value in the eyes of the beholder who claims it and rarely do we ask the beholder to share their reason for keeping the trinket. It's a private affair.