Originally posted on 101words.org
When I was ten, my parents divorced. I coped with repetition. I collected state quarters.
Why state quarters? I loved the consistency. Name at the top, year at the bottom, and the pictures in the center I’d memorized: California, Delaware, Maine, engraved silver trees and patriotic birds and olive branches.
I dug through couches and coats, feeling their ridges on my fingers, always trying to recreate a full set of fifty. I always could.
No matter his or her house, no matter the struggle, I found each one and I kept them together, starting over the next day.
Why couldn’t they?
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