Because I am one of 46 grandchildren from 13 children, I never was able to inherit any of my grandmother's nursing supplies, which still makes me sad, as she was the reason I finally bucked up and went for it. When my older aunties moved her into the nursing home, they went through her house for a few days with a dumpster outside, and if it wasn't clearly valuable, sentimental, or specifically asked for, they chucked it. I was never asked if there was anything I would like to have from her, otherwise I would have asked for her red steth (she'd listen to me in my mother's womb with it) and the little nightlight statuette she'd light up when I slept on her davenport. I think, to have her cap or pin would have been pure joy. Instead, I have her memories, and one picture, and the hope that she's guiding my hands and words.
As much as I try sometimes, I can't be bitter. I think she'd hate it.