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It's funny how simple belongings become well loved through time.

It's like they know us and have been there through our life experiences.

Some have certain meaning, such as a wedding-gift pitcher, while others were there as we built memories with our families.

When my husband and I got married, we were given a glass pitcher that resembled the Kool-Aid man pitcher in shape, minus the face, arms and legs. It was a simple container, quickly put to good use as we made fresh pots of Southern sweet tea.

We often commented on how it was the perfect glass pitcher for serving tea or Kool-Aid for the kids and how we had never seen another like it.

After one such discussion, my husband and I were cleaning up after dinner. Both of us were standing in our small kitchen.

I turned quickly on my heels, hitting the pitcher with a plate, breaking off its handle.

Precious sweet tea started dribbling out of the holes where the handle had been. I swung into action and dumped the rest of the tea in the sink.

The pitcher was just a material object, but I knew it would be next to impossible to find another one like it.

Still, I had to try.

I began searching online. As I told my sad story to the Internet, I received the occasional e-mail as people tried to refer me to possible matches.

After searching a few weeks, I settled on a glass pitcher that seemed to meet our needs. It was thinner than our original pitcher, not as bold and sturdy, and lasted only few weeks.

At Walmart shortly after this, I found, much to my delight, a pitcher very similar to the first one we lost. Beside it, though, was a sturdy one with a lid that would serve us well when we stored leftover tea.

In the end, I choose the sturdy pitcher with a lid.

Some of my prized possessions are not much to look at.

That clock that hangs by our front door, for instance, was purchased right after we married.

Countless times, as we've left the house and slammed the door shut too hard, the clock crashed to the floor. The silly thing still works even after falling so many times.

It is scratched around its round wooden frame, but we love it. It's part of our routine to pick it up off the floor time and time again.

The rocking chair in our living room, likewise, has seen better days.

It was purchased as we made plans to marry so many years ago. The ends of the rockers have severe teeth marks where our first dog, Scotty, chewed on them as a puppy.

When I look at that chair, I see Scotty lying there all innocent-like with his goofy grin, wondering what he did wrong. I do not have the heart to sand it down and refinish it. The chew marks are a part of our journey.

These things in our house show evidence of life. They are a part of what helped us make a house of brick and wood into a home full of love as we lived and laughed and cried through the years.

These items have staged our history and were the props around the days we have lived as a family.

Even if the rocking chair or clock meet an untimely demise in the future, they, like the special tea pitcher, will forever be a part of the stories we tell as a family as we "remember when" to one another and future generations.

Linda Vestal is a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend living in Gibsonville. Contact her with comments or story ideas at lindavestal@triad.rr.com.