November 2006

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A little over ten years ago, when Mother died, there was found with her things at the hospital a dollar bill. I was almost certain that the dollar had not been hers, but since I couldn't prove that, the hospital staff convinced me to go ahead and take it. So, with a hope that the person who was missing a dollar could afford the loss, I put it in my pocket.

I was back at Mother's home a few days after the funeral, doing some laundry. As I was bringing clothes in from having been hung outside to dry, I realized one of the items laundered had been the slacks with the dollar in the pocket. And I was pretty sure I hadn't checked the pockets before laundering (I know---bad Becky). I looked, but no dollar. So I assumed it was gone from me, too, in one of those universe gives and takes things.

That series of events stayed in my memory, of course, because I remember things like that. But I hadn't thought about it in a while.

Recently I was looking through some family memorabilia, thinking I should scan some of the photographs and get some help identifying the people therein. While I was sorting through the papers and photographs, I found a dollar bill. I have no idea from whence it came, but it really has crossed my mind more than once that it was the same bill.

In any case, I decided the appropriate thing to do was say thanks to my mother.

This time, I have put the bill where I can see it. I'm sure I'll know when or if to spend it.