My Mother's Basket

Day 299: My Mother's Basket

Why do daughters feel that keeping their mothers' things isn't really stealing? My mother brought over a lovely picnic for me in this basket, probably three years ago when I had surgery in my nasal passages. And because I'm greedy for baskets, and because this one is so very functional, I just kept it. I never even thought about it. I just rolled up a bunch of clean towels, artfully arranged them in the basket and used it as a mini linen closet in the upstairs bathroom.

I thought of it yesterday, as I was stewing under a black cloud because I have hangnails on two fingers but no nail clippers. The reason I have no nail clippers is that Emma Jane stole my nail kit when she went back to Ball State last week. This, after I had explicitly stated that NO ONE was to remove this nail kit from the downstairs bathroom. Anyone could use it, but NO ONE could move it. Ironically, the nail kit was a gift (wrapped and delivered) from my mother.

I was extremely incensed when I realized that my nail kit was gone. The theft of my nail kit follows a pattern of other thefts - my sweaters, my makeup, my hats and gloves, my yarn, my books, my Sudoku puzzles - that create little unpleasant surprises as I move through my day. The bottom line is, daughters aren't really separate from their mothers, like drops of rain in a pond. For this reason, mother's things are really your things. You can't steal from yourself.

I'd been thinking, with irritation, that someday, when my own child is truly grown, she'll feel deep down that she is separate from me, and when that day comes, my sweaters will stay folded on the shelf, and my nail clippers will stay tucked in their bathroom drawer. I was looking forward to that day. Until I noticed the basket on the bathroom floor, filled to the brim with artistically arranged towels.

No doubt, my mother would happily give me that basket. In fact, she's probably reading this blog now and thinking something like, "Oh, you should have just kept the basket, dear. I'm happy for you to have it." And I would happily give my daughter a nail kit. If only she would ask.