Transplanting a Seattleite

I have been trying to decide whether there is any point in hanging onto my mother's very ragged Persian lamb coat from the 1940s. Finding an almost exactly similar one in a flea market for eight bucks makes me think there's really not -- not because I really cared about the economic value anyway, but because seeing another one that wasn't my mother's made me realize more fully that I don't actually care about the coat, only my memories of Mom showing it to me and my thinking it was cool. But I might take a couple of pictures of my daughters in it before it goes in the trash.