The Reindeer Keeper

Signs inform us. Direct us. Influence us. They come in all sizes. Some, like the Amish sign above, are simple. Some signs light up. Some flash on and off twenty-four hours a day. Some signs are subtle. Quiet, like a whispering breeze. Precious as a baby's smile. Signs of impending bad weather or a health scare are signs we would prefer to go away. After losing someone we love, their life is retold over and over again. Signs of their life are everywhere. They tell a story.  Their story unfolds as we take care of their things, from fishing poles to books (some with pages marked or paragraphs underlined, or notes scribbled on pieces of paper stuck between pages) to clothing we remember them wearing. We clean out drawers. Pack up boxes. Those signs are at every turn. On most every wall. On the refrigerator door. In most every room. From favorite magazines and countless editions of newspapers read from front to back, over and over again, to favorite old 45 records-to photos. So many pho...

When I was growing up we had a Santa Claus ceramic cookie jar that sat on one of the shelves of a free standing service cart-like-thing. It had wheels so you could roll it around from one wall to another or one room to another. My mother always kept it in the kitchen by the back door. Along with that cookie jar she kept the toaster sitting on that stand as well. Both the toaster and the cookie jar always stayed in the same place. Other stuff wasn't permanent. It changed when she needed to get something out of the way. It never mattered to any of us that it was a 'Santa Claus' cookie jar. What mattered was that it contained cookies all year long. My grandmother kept her cookies inside a small, free-standing cupboard. It was painted white and it had a counter top. Half of the space in the front of that cupboard was where she kept boxes of cereal. All you had to do was open a small door and make your choice. The other half was comprised of three pull-out drawers. The ...