GRIEVING – IN A PICKLE… Since my mom’s passing after only a six-month fight with breast cancer, our refrigerator has been kind enough to hold the “lasts” of her sustenance…the last package of Jello, the last bottles of Ensure, the container of butter that she so loved to slather on her corn on the cob, her last Coca-Cola that still holds her fingerprints, and ALL the jars of pickles that she bought but never ate.  Three years later, they remain and are daily reminders that a mother’s existence, MY mother’s existence has always been the only sustenance that I ever needed. As I clean my refrigerator, I cannot bear the thought of letting go of these things.  Perhaps one day I will; but for now, I will just rearrange the pickles.