Take good care of her,  my father said to me, as he presented me with his ship. "She lasted me 15 years."  I wondered why, exactly, he was giving me the ship in the first place.  I was his firstborn son, true, but I had never expressed any real desire for the ship, except for the one time I mentioned how much I'd like to sail around the Caribbean from our Florida home in it.  Even if he had taken that to heart, however, there was no reason for him to give it to me at this point, he was still perfectly capable of sailing it.  I suppose because my mother didn't like boats, he had decided to give it up sooner rather than later.  In any case, I was pretty thrilled to have such a fine ship.  I was already planning a trip to the Bermuda Islands for this summer, when I realized my father looked sadder than he had in a long time.  
