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  • The mother who drew a parrot in graduate school and destroyed it, who loved Van Gogh, who loved the wild ocean and birds and hurricanes, she ate cheap cookies.

    My mother kept cookies in her bedside table, store brand chocolate chips and M&M chips, chocolate grahams, and in the past few years, Vienna Fingers for my husband, Bill, fourth drawer down in the little bedside dresser she got in college. First drawer- calendar book,emery board, scissors, little Calvert School flashlight key-ring with the key to the lock box, second drawer- tv paper and remote, third- socks now, in earlier years, stockings.

    The odd one out is the cookie drawer. My mother was always very tidy. Everything had its place. Food in the bedroom seemed out of character but it was not. As long as I can remember there have been cookies beside my mother’s bed. My brother would steal them. I wouldn’t, maybe because I hated to get caught but more importantly I did not love them as much as they did . My brother’s dead two and one half years now. Mom has been gone nine months.

    My brother and my mother had an ongoing game. She would hide cookies and he would eat them. He did not leave any either, just crumbs. It was their game. It was part of their closeness. She and I never had that.

    I never really ate cookies like they did. I don't think that is is exactly why she and I were not close but maybe our distance is tangiently explained by the fact that I was a cookie snob. I would wait all year to indulge myself in my grandmother's Christmas cookies . They were like heaven to me. I would savor them, while my brother would devour them and my mom was not partial to them. She would rather eat cheap cookies than admit to loving something my grandmother made. Me, I will not eat cardboard for anyone. It can be annoying.
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