My nephew asked for a pocket knife with his name engraved on it for Christmas. I still had one of Dad’s 3 blade knives that was as dirty and grungy as could be so I cleaned it, buffed the snot out of it. She cleaned up pretty good! I left the slight scratches on the blades themselves because those are Grandpa made scratches, as I explained to my nephew, along with a slight warning “Lose this knife and I’ll skin ya with mine boy”
I couldn’t engrave his name on it but figured out later, he just wanted a knife he could his and only his. After he opened it, he was so excited. He spent the whole rest of the day, pulling out of his pocket, opening it to look at it, put it back in his pocket. All . . . Day . . . Long. Lol
A week after Christmas, my brother said he still does it when he’s home. He flat freakin LOVES his knife that was Grandpa’s. Uncle Bullfrog tears up with pride every time he tells this story.