When my Grandma died back in August, my little sister and I flew to Michigan for the memorial service. Rachel came in from New Orleans, I from southern New Mexico.
As we began unpacking our bags and settling into our hotel room, Rach noticed that we had something in common:
Matching toothbrushes and matching combs.
To some, this coincidence might suggest that mass production is destroying all but the last vestiges of quality and craftsmanship, to say nothing of regional diversity.
To me, it proved that me and my sister were cut from the same cloth, and that our bond of trust and understanding couldn’t be broken by distance, change, or circumstance…
… that, and also the mass production thing.