I asked my mother how her new job is going. She told me she sees the cow veins when they're brought in, soaked and dripping with blood, at 6 in the morning. "It's too early to see something like that, but I think I'll get used to it." After years of being a bookkeeper, part-time seamstress and mother, I think sewing veins is a well-needed change for her.

She also told me I could have her photo album and gown from her wedding. I'll give a photo to Daniel to throw into the ocean and probably keep the rest for a piece. Her gown is an odd thing to inherit, but I don't want her to throw it away. I think I'll build a glass case to display it in for a class.  She said she nearly threw it away but couldn't.

"Are you sure you want it?" She asked. "It's crumpled up with all of the junk in the garage." She told me she ran it over in the driveway a few times with her car, and she and my sister sat on it in the snow when they took a break from shoveling. "It's a wreck."