My parents are gone, but I still have their things. A plate, a chair, a matchbook, a sweater, an old cell phone. Something of them lives on in this stuff. Send a picture of an object and tell me what it does to you and how it makes you feel about your mom and dad, dead or alive. Then go clean up your room. Thank you
When I was young, I would sometimes get migraine-like headaches. My head would hurt and I would be so distressed that I would get nauseous and throw up. Sometimes I made it to the bathroom, where I would collapse over the baby blue porcelain bowl while my mother held my hair and rubbed my back. If I didn’t think I could make it down the hall, I would have this bowl by my bed. It’s a stainless mixing bowl and when I used it Mom was always there again to sit by my bed and hold my hair and rub my back. Always.
Just a couple years ago, I held that same bowl for my husband Dan, who was sick with cancer, and was in need of someone to hold his bald, smooth, sometimes hot head. He had no hair to hold but he had a back that I always rubbed.
I can’t even think what this bowl’s power is over me. But I also can’t imagine throwing it out.