My Dad died from cancer when he was 61 years young. He golfed quite a bit. Before he got really sick some 2-3 years before his death he competed in a Coke-a-Cola golf tournament in Corinth Mississippi with his buddies. They didn't win but placed well. He won a Coke-A-Cola "Case' folding knife stamped and carved with the Coke Plants info in Corinth. He was very proud of that knife. His eyes sparkled when he showed it to me a couple of times, recalling the game day.Before he died about 3 months before, he gave me the blade. I cherished that blade for obvious reasons, but more over when he died my older brother by 8 years was given all his jewelry. His watch,rings and even his wallet. I was quiet, I would hold the knife sometimes when going through my jewelry box... and remember him giving it to me. His after shave scent,the smile in his eyes,his rough face when he would hug me tight when I left to come back North not knowing if he'd see me again.
I was cleaning the knife for the first time about a month ago when it disintegrated on me. The liners fell apart as if made from wood. It just fell apart in my hands.
I held it and wept.
I was able to fold it back together again and it sits on my blade shelf front and center.Still love that knife, but I feel as if I somehow let him down by aiding it to fall apart. I have not ever talked about this before. It still hurts.
Never lost a knife, but I can imagine how you all must feel after losing it completely. You all have my regrets.
Peace.