Reorientation

My front room has suitcases, some of which are newly emptied, some of which are half emptied, and some of which are filled with things belonging to my parents. My desk is covered with receipts, invoices, shipping labels, and post-it notes. Large mounds of color-sorted laundry block the walkway into the family room, waiting for their turn through the washing machine. Mail sits on my kitchen counter to tell me the details of my kids' school schedules. Then there are the children themselves, ...