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Qbits Closet Storage
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Closets are never big enough. Look here for ways to creatively expand your closet space! We've assembled everything you need to know about Qbits Closet Storage.
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Author: National Catholic Reporter My mother's closet To save each other from going through my mother's closet, my sister and I each thought to do it-- but not yet. Together, in the end, we learned how hats and coats and dresses could assault the heart, like this bent thimble I keep beside my bed. Quietly we worked. One cotton housecoat, too worn to give away, kept us standing there. And what I never learned from history or religion I learned here: how cloth becomes relic, and more: what a relic means. But my mother's treasure--not clothes, nor the diamonds, gold, and cameos she gave us, sons and daughters, years before-- we found shelved above her coats. Still she kept hidden what she bought for holidays, though we were, all seven, grown and gone. After her October death we found within her closet a paper tablecloth for Halloween, new inside its plastic, crying out in orange and black of all our apple-ducking years and all the party games she ran for us and friends at each October's end. The businesswoman that she was for more than half her life blurs beside this mother in our home even though we saw her reach to others through her shop, her sales, her ready coffee pot and chairs and listening ear. At eighty, though, she stayed how again. At eighty-seven, she still loved children in the house. With Dee and Christopher, grandsons of her nurse, she watched cartoons. "You can change the channel if you want," I heard her tell them on my last visit home. There were always children there: neighbors' children, grandchildren, the kids of those who came to pray the rosary with her every day. No wonder we found paper birthday hats and even Easter bunnies waiting for another spring. The best of bunnies we gave to Christopher and Dee. For myself, I kept a little Book of Dogs, an Easter bunny, a well-worn robe, and, best of all, (though I never sew) this tiny thimble bent to fit her finger.--Mary Zoghby-HaffnerKennesaw, Ga. COPYRIGHT 2002 National Catholic Reporter
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