I always knew my mom’s things would one day be a problem. Not because they were worth a lot of money, but because they were pieces of her. And the longer she was gone, the more people seemed to forget that.

My mother died when I was 12. I’m 26 now, and the only thing I’ve ever really held onto from her, aside from memories, was her stuff. Her jewelry, her wedding ring, her little watch. And I’ve had to protect it harder than anyone should ever have to protect memories. I just never thought my own dad would be the one to ask me to give most of it away.

When I was 15, my dad gave me everything that belonged to my mom. Not because he suddenly got sentimental — no, it was because his then-girlfriend tried to take some of it.

I caught her snooping through my mom’s jewelry box and called her out. She tried to slap me. My dad ended things with her immediately and apologized.

It wasn’t even the first time someone went after Mom’s things. My aunt, his sister, once tried to steal a pearl pendant that had been Mom’s favorite. I found it stuffed in her purse. That moment stuck with me more than I care to admit.

After that incident with his sister trying to steal Mom’s pendant, my dad sat me down.