marked the shore. She recalled that when her younger self
stood on this same beach for the first timeshe had thought the sand looked like a gigantic writing
surface. The slate was cleaninvitingopen to possibilities. And at that moment of her lifeshe had a new
determinationa fierce hope. She didn't have to make up the answers anymore. She could ask.
Just as she had so long beforeRuth now stooped and picked up a broken shell. She scratched in the
sand:Help. And she watched as the waves carried her plea to another world.
SEVEN
When Ruth returned to LuLing's apartmentshe began to throw away what her mother had saved: dirty
napkins and plastic bagsrestaurant packets of soy sauce and mustard and disposable chopsticksused
straws and expired couponswads of cotton from medicine bottles and the empty bottles themselves.
She emptied the cupboards of cartons and jars with their labels still attached. There was enough rotten
food from the fridge and freezer to fill four large garbage sacks.
Cleaning helped her feel that she was removing the clutter from her mother's mind. She opened more
closets. She saw hand towels with holly motifsa Christmas present that LuLing never used. She put
them in a bag destined fo,
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