My Mom
I’ve moved a number of times in the last decade or two, primarily in an effort to stay ahead of the ever increasing rents in this ridiculously expensive town. Each time, my mom has insisted on being in charge of the kitchen. Everything from measuring, cutting and installing shelf paper to unpacking and putting everything away. It’s been a huge blessing. And it’s fun to figure out where she put everything and realize that it’s all exactly where I’d put it. About three moves ago, as she’s unpacking dishes, she gets to the box of coffee cups and asks, “Robin, why do you have SO DAMN MANY coffee cups?! There’s only one of you!” She starts tucking them into a cupboard tightly, clearly hoping they all fit. True, I own enough coffee cups to serve tea to an entire rugby tournament but I live alone save for an occasional visit from my son. And my cat. So why do I have so many and why is it so hard to part with any? My mom has never been a sentimental or nostalgic person. She is very org...