My dad passed away suddenly just about two years ago. difficult child had just turned 5. This afternoon, I had asked difficult child to clean out his hot wheels box and get rid of the cars he no longer wanted to keep or that were broken. He happily complied and made a long line of cars before walking thru it and selecting the keepers and the go-ers. He got to a heavily used race car, missing a body piece and a wheel. He started to put it in the "go" bag, and then stopped. He took it to my mom and asked her to keep it for him. (I was in the kitchen listening and I knew what was coming). Grandpa had bought him that race car at a gas station, it was his favorite kind of race car, and he didn't want to get rid of it. I remember when grandpa bought him that car. He got it when he met me after they'd kept difficult child for a long weekend in the summer. I don't recall if it was the summer difficult child was 4 1/2 or the summer before that when he was 3 1/2. Either way, his memory seemed remarkable to me. And it brought tears to my eyes. He's a really good boy in there.