Things Left Behind

Research Article| August 01 2023 Things Left Behind Nancy Sommers Nancy Sommers Nancy Sommers led the Harvard College Writing Program for twenty years as the Sosland Chair in Writing. She is the author of four college writing handbooks, including A Writer’s Reference, Tenth Edition (Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2021) and A Pocket Style Manual, Ninth Edition (Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2021), and numerous prize-winning essays. Sommers directs writing workshops and teaches creative nonfiction at Harvard’s Graduate School of Education. nancy_sommers@gse.harvard.edu Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar nancy_sommers@gse.harvard.edu Gastronomica (2023) 23 (3): 21–28. https://doi.org/10.1525/gfc.2023.23.3.21 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Email Tools Icon Tools Get Permissions Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Nancy Sommers; Things Left Behind. Gastronomica 1 August 2023; 23 (3): 21–28. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/gfc.2023.23.3.21 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentGastronomica Search It was time for my parents to give up the family home on Ferndale Drive. They had clung to the house, and to their independence, beyond the point that they could live safely on their own. When frequent 911 calls became the norm, the decision to move to assisted living seemed obvious, even long overdue. But what to do about what was left behind? We had a family museum filled with objects and memorabilia from my parents’ seventy years of married life, and even older keepsakes from my grandparents, stored securely in closets, cupboards, drawers, and neatly boxed in cartons stacked high in storage rooms. My mother dated and labeled, stored and preserved everything, until she couldn’t—until, as she called it, pieces of her mind went missing. At first, tearing into my mother’s boxes and opening closets and drawers felt intrusive, almost voyeuristic. Throughout my childhood, closets and cupboards held... You do not currently have access to this content.