For years and years, my father and mother battled about cleaning out the house. She was a keeper and he was a thrower-outer. The huge walk-in closet in our guest room housed many of my art projects from elementary school, toys my brother and I played with as children, my amazing Barbie camper van, my Crissy doll with adjustable hair length. (It is important to note — for my mother’s legacy — that while she was a keeper, she was a clean and tidy one! The closets were jammed but thoughtfully organized and the living areas impeccable. The 35-year-old baby
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