THE "PIN MONEY" BANK

"I could remember its exact place on Mom's doily-covered dresser...."

When our mom passed away 24 years ago, my sister and I spent a weekend dividing up her possessions. The fate of the larger items already decided, we were down to figuring out what had enough value, collectible or emotional, to escape the impending garage sale. We worked through the Hummel figurines and ceramic birds, the dishes and serving pieces, taking turns choosing. Sibling diplomacy in action. Mom would have been proud.

Eventually there was just one item left: this small porcelain bank designed to look like a metal-clasped change purse decorated with flowers and rhinestones. I could remember its exact place on Mom’s doily-covered dresser when we were kids, alongside the jewelry box, the White Shoulders dusting powder, the mirrored tray with the comb and hairbrush set. I guess my sister could, too. “I want it,” we both said at the same time. 

When we were kids growing up in northern New Jersey, Mom loved to travel. As soon as I was in junior high, she went back to work full-time as a travel agent. Unlike most of my friends, who went to the Jersey Shore or Cape Cod for vacation, we got to go to Paris, London, Portugal, St. Maarten—because Mom was always up for an adventure! In fact, her wish for after she died was for our whole family to take a trip to Bermuda, her favorite destination, and scatter her ashes in Horseshoe Bay. Which we did.

Years before she died, my sister and I had both moved to Ohio—I to Mason, my sister to Worthington, only about 90 miles apart. That proximity turned out to be the solution to our Pin Money bank stand-off. We live close enough that we can each keep the bank for a year, then deliver it to the other. 

So while it’s not quite as exciting as flying off to Europe or the Caribbean, every year Mom’s beloved porcelain change purse gets to go on a little journey, traveling north or south on Interstate 71. The designated exchange date? Mother’s Day, of course.

—Nancy Stetler