Mom always carried a big purse. She rarely got rid of purses but kept them and changed them out with the seasons. Normally, her purses came from garage sales or clearance racks or hand-me-downs from someone.

Some of us in the family, okay, namely myself, would make fun of her big purses from time to time, but guaranteed, if we ever needed a this or a that, she could come up with something buried deep in the bottomless purse. She ALWAYS had Big Red. ALWAYS had a band-aid. ALWAYS had a sewing kit. ALWAYS had one of those Avon foldup mirrors that had magnifying on one side, regular on the other. ALWAYS had one of Ferguson Standard’s squeeze coin thingys. ALWAYS had kleenex that looked used but wasn’t used – just a little rough around the sheets since they swam in the bottomless. ALWAYS had a little perfume bottle of Estee Lauder Beautiful that she thought smelled so good. ALWAYS had medicine, make-up, that Hallmark calendar book the size of a checkbook with everyone’s birthdays and anniversaries (including her wedding anniversary on January 18) and missionary meetings and Gideon meetings and grandchild ballgames and concerts all handwritten in that famous cursive and and and extra note paper, pens, pencils, address book, billfold, receipts, pictures of every child and grandchild, last week’s Sunday School lesson, a plastic rain scarf that was SO EMBARRASSING to her children when she actually pulled it out of that little tiny plastic container and wore it (but I SO understand now), and ALWAYS had coupons for every fast food place from here to Texas.

I have a co-worker who changes purses with every outfit, almost daily. And her purses ain’t cheap. I’m sure she’s not changing out Mom’s contents…

As I typed out the memories of Mom’s purse contents and size of her satchel, I am stunned. Pretty much described my purse, I did. Except for the sewing kit. I don’t sew. And there’s no Sunday School lesson in there, but there are two devotion books. That counts. I don’t carry Estee Lauder Beautiful because I don’t think it’s so beautiful. AND, I do NOT carry a plastic rain helmet in a teeny tiny bright colored suitcase container. But I do have enough items in my purse to survive as a castaway on Gilligan’s island.

So today I had lunch with my CASA girl and her team of support. One of the gems of support whom I admire, a Jewish woman about my age who is stronger than Samson in wit and wisdom and full of passion and fire for the work she does, shared her insight concerning purses. Her sister-in-law knows that “Samson” carries the same purse she has carried for 15+ years. “Samson” never changes purses. (Like me.) Sister-in-law told her recently that the one item women wear every day, all day, 365 days a year, is their purse. So to spend a little money on a purse that is going to be used and worn every single day is not a bad thing. Instead of going to the easy department store to get a new $30 purse with a coupon she got in her email inbox since her purse was worn to the nubs, “Samson” decided to go to the purse store, the one you see in specialty outdoor malls with the high-end shops, and she bought herself a new purse that cost a lot of money, a purse that has a lifetime guarantee, a purse that she won’t have to replace for at least another THIRTY years now. And she is okay with that.

So. I’m arguing with myself.

I’m grateful that I don’t have to wear a plastic rain bonnet.

I’m grateful I have a humongo bag to carry all of the important things in life.

I’m grateful for a hug from my CASA girl today.

I’m grateful for “Samson” and her stories that make me argue with myself.

I’m grateful for Big Red. Yes, Mom, I’d like a piece, thank you.

And one more thing. Happy anniversary, Dad and Mom.