Noreen Grimes

There was 50 years of living in that house and we had to make it empty.

It had taken us almost a year to begin the business of settling my mother's affairs and dispersing her personal things.

That was the title she had written on a 50 cent black and white composition book, The Disbursement of Goods.

She'd read somewhere that it cut way down on family fighting if the goods were delegated in writing beforehand.

So every family member had a page with their name across the top and a list underneath of anything they had ever expressed interest in when visiting with mom.

In the last five years, she got a little sneaky with the book.

She'd follow you around the house with it.

You like that picture?

You want that picture?

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

You like that bowl?

You want that bowl.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

And we all shook her off the same way.

Stop with the book already.

We don't want to talk about this now.

But when faced with the challenge of emptying our family home, that book was a treasure.

Like the four pictures at the top of the stairs.

I told my sister, I always liked them.

I have a perfect spot for them.