What we carry forward

A story in The New York Times last week resonated with me. A Texas woman has china passed down through five generations of family meals, celebrations, hands carefully washing and storing each plate. Yet her sons don’t want it.

I understand the heartbreak of watching something so deeply connected to family history lose its place in the next generation. China like that isn’t just stuff—it’s a thread in a tapestry. To break the chain feels like losing something bigger than the plates themselves.

When my grandmother passed, her ancient china could have ended up in an attic or the thrift shop, another forgotten thing. But my nephew chose to keep it, because it reminded him of her. For him, those plates represent her kindness, her interest in art, and the joy of being at her table. He wanted to carry that forward. His mother and I were delighted and relieved that it wasn't in our houses and that the legacy would continue a bit longer.

These plates, like so many heirlooms, are more than objects. They’re stories we hold in our hands—stories of connection, love, and care. But not all stories stay with us, and not all need to.

A century ago, china and silverware weren’t just family heirlooms—they were status symbols. People spent what would be $10,000 a year now on table settings. It seems so crazy! Now people use paper plates at Thanksgiving!. A century ago, china wasn’t just about eating; it was about showing the world you’d made it. Today, our markers have changed to a new car or the latest phone.. We still chase symbols of success, but how many of those things truly matter to us?

Sometimes, they do. That car might be a milestone, the reward for years of hard work. That heirloom might connect us to the people who shaped us. But it’s worth asking: Is this something I want to carry forward? Or am I holding onto it because I think I should?

Not everything we inherit—whether it’s stuff, habits, or ideas—has to stay. The beauty is, we get to choose. We get to decide what we keep, what we let go of, and what we pass on. And when we choose intentionally, the things we carry forward have a way of feeling lighter, more meaningful.