My mother has developed a habit of occasionally asking us what items we would want once she leaves this earthly existence. Responding with lighthearted humor to her musings on death, and her tendency to be a bit of a packrat, my sister and I tell her not to hide any money in the house because we plan on selling it fully furnished when she dies. When I realized the other day that she still had a grapevine wreath my dad and I had made more than 20 years ago, however, I half-jokingly told her to write my name on it.