I’m puttering around after mom has gone to bed. Dishes (sorry,Dave) and recycling (again, sorry), the counter, but not the kitchen table. It has been a long day but we got to the end with everybody safe and sound.

I can’t find the change dish. It is absurd that there isn’t one because it has always existed. In the kitchen usually, but in Herrin it was on the buffet in the dining room. Even at 23 I snatched quarters like I could still get a bag of M&Ms for 35 cents. My brother drinks Dr. Pepper and that drives the cost higher but I grab from the change dish at 14, or 17, or (apparently) 23 so I can get a snack or smokes. Ok, so the smokes was only at 23.

I’m staying in what I think of as dad’s room. It isn’t here. It doesn’t make sense in mom’s room, she has come to the age where she happily dishes out exact change at a moments notice.

The thing is that I have plenty of change right now. After a couple of days of All Cash All The Time purchases I am loaded down with change and I absolutely hate flying with change. It weighs too much (especially carry on) and isn’t worth the energy. I’m flying tomorrow, back to husband and son.

I have all this change, and I want to leave it here, I took so much when I was young and could pretend that nobody would notice a jar with no quarters or dimes.

I have so much debt to the change dish and I can’t repay it all, but this handful here I want to pay back.

I can’t find a way to put it back.

It doesn’t matter that I don’t need to. I want to.