The Kitchen Sink

About five or so years ago I took my Nanny on some local errands. At the end of our journey we stopped at her bank. Nanny plopped her enormous black handbag on a counter top and began routing through it. Nanny's handbags were a true wonder. You know that phrase, "everything but the kitchen sink"? Yes, that was her handbag. Wallet, tissues, a wad of paperwork rubber banded together, and, of coarse, butterscotch candies.

Today I was out and about in Ocean City. I've been carrying the the tote that Jessica and Christopher gave all the ladies in their wedding party this summer. I plopped my tote on a bench for a moment and glanced at it as I lit a cigarette. It was jammed packed with a wallet, check book, makeup bag, sunblock, and -- as crazy as it sounds -- plastic garlic.

My heart was full.

The wonderment of being part of a family is that we all share each other's little mannerisms. For me, I slam my down to emphasize a statement just like my Aunt Gloria. My mother cooks barefoot just like her grandmother, Ann.

It is this sharing of mannerisms that keep those who have left us physically with us in spirit. They continue to live because we hold a part of their soul within us. They continue to live because a glance at your overstuffed tote bag can take your breath away in remembrance.

By the way, the plastic garlic is a decoration for my kitchen that I bought today. I just put it in my tote to avoid another plastic bag. Or, perhaps I am simple trying to fend off plastic vampires.