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hen I go to visit my mother, it’s always an experience. She amazes me. She currently lives in a single-wide trailer on the farm where I grew up. And whenever I visit, she constantly talks about getting rid of stuff. She wants my sister to take all of the old family photographs. She wants my other sister to have the dolls she played with when she was little. She wants me to take the Corningware and other dishes. (She didn’t have to work very hard to convince me to take the Corningware. It’s the pretty blue cornflower pattern, and–most importantly–the various-sized pieces still have their lids, because my mother is VERY careful.)

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