These gloves belong to Aunt Ruth and her sister, Leah, who was also my mother. The stacking represents how I see the sisters. Aunt Ruth beams as she says, "My sister was older than I, smarter than I, and more beautiful than I. She is not diminishing her worth by admiring her sister. In fact, it is quite the opposite. She is proud of her sister without an ounce of jealousy. (I'm sure they had disagreements, but the adoration always seemed seamless to me.)
I am one of three girls, and Aunt Ruth has had to stand in for our deceased Mother, and like many sisters, we can vie for favor. She doesn't give it. She loves us in equal measure just as she loved her brother and sister. This is not to say she doesn't offer us counsel, and believe me, she is the first to point out a typographical or factual error on the blog, but editorial commentary and advice are part of an aunt's job. She loves each of us equally.
She has taught me to see my sisters like the pile of gloves; pairs of hands to applaud each other's triumphs and hold each other when life is unkind.
Thanks, Aunt Ruth.