When Mom and I traveled to Europe together many years ago, we bought matching sweaters “just in case” it was chilly. We were immediately glad we did. We donned them the first evening, as we listened to an outdoor concert in a chill June drizzle in London, and wore them often throughout the next six weeks as we toured England, Ireland, France, Germany, Austria and Italy. 

We slipped ponchos over them when it was raining and slept under them on overnight train trips. They also came in handy as robes and cushions. We wore them so much that we never wanted to see them again when we got home. 

They’ve always been sentimental to me, enough that I stuck them in a suitcase and stored them in the attic for years. And that has preserved them, preserved the memories, too.