A life's treasures

"Another day, many days really, were devoted to going through my father's tchotchkes - small statues, figurines, odd bits of driftwood or stone he'd picked up - and, finally, throwing them into a trash bag. I might well have been with him when he chanced on these things, in junk shops, flea markets, or just lying there on the ground: his treasures. This was what pleased him most in life, I think, hunting for these bits and pieces that he found intriguing for one reason or another. No, not for one reason or another: they were all lovely, all interesting; he had a wonderful eye. But they were of no value to anyone else, except perhaps me, and I don't have room."

August Kleinzahler 's poignant Diary essay in the London Review of Books