My grandparents ran an antique shop well before I was born, and growing up, their house was a special treasure chest to me. I remember rows and rows of old telephones in the basement, stacks of paintings, jars of buttons, boxes of silver spoons, and of course, the china cabinet. They’ve since passed away, and the contents of the china cabinet now belong to me, hidden in my closet, a certain tucked away memory. I’m not sure why, but last weekend, I was driven to take them out and unwrap each piece. There is a tea set from China, hand-painted Italian bowls, centennial pieces from nearby cities. What are the stories of these objects? Why were they in the china cabinet? Infatuation with the faraway may be the norm, but sometimes, there is so much to discover just within the closet.