Tissue Issue

        When my husband's mother passed away several years ago, he and his sister were still working at jobs and their time limited. I had already retired, so I took on the duty of emptying his mom's kitchen cabinets, dresser drawers, closets and anything else that needed to be emptied.

        I spent several days alone in my mother-in-law's house, mostly in her bedroom, sifting through everything from nightgowns to slips to pantyhose to make-up and jewelry. From the closet I pulled out familiar sweaters, jackets, trousers, and like-new dresses. As I continued performing this tearful task, a pattern began to emerge.