I got to reconnect with my East Coast Italian family, some of whom I'd never met, and others I hadn't seen since I was a baby and/or small child. We had a lasagna dinner with lots of Italian specialties.
My cousin made me a batch of cookies using my grandmother's special snowball and butter cookie recipes. Then, she gave me the recipe cards that my grandmother had typed up years ago on her typewriter. It meant so much to me, since I have just a few things of my grandmother. My other cousin made a jar of tomato sauce and told the story of how my grandmother taught her and all the women in the families how to make tomato sauce when they were girls. Was all I could do to choke down the lump in my throat.
I did live close to my grandparents toward the end of their lives, but they had become old frail at that point. My grandmother had already started developing Alzheimer's and my grandfather had had a stroke and could not talk, so I never really got to see what they were like in their prime. It was a gift to hear my cousins' stories and eat the same food my grandmother would have made for Christmases past.
Everything else I got is just replaceable bullshit.