The last day of 2000, I took Laddie, my dog, down Airport Blvd. to Government Blvd through the Bankhead Tunnel and out by Battleship Park toward Spanish Fort. We stopped at a Texaco Station Parking lot so Laddie could see the Bay. He loved the birds. I remember Freddie and Jackie on the beach in Waveland, so long ago. How I worried about keeping everything spotless and in place. To me that meant I was a good mother and wife. Everything perfect and in its place. I wish I had taken more walks on the beach with them and worried less about the sand. Today, I found a shell on one of our walks and a spent bullet. The shell reminded me that Jackie brought me shells back from her trip to Williamsburg with Clytice. The bullet reminded me of all the spent bullets Freddie and Daddy shot on the farm. I saw a rock reminding me of the color of rocks on our dirt road at home. How many loads of gravel did Daddy haul in all of his years working on Attala County roads? How many lunches did Mother make for him to carry in the metal lunch box? How much did I not see? Laddie and I met people from Phoenix.