I’m the oldest daughter of an addict who is still figuring out what functioning looks like. I realize that having 17 aqua vintage vases looks, and maybe even is, dysfunctional.

But I like my things. I put them on the shelf and they they are: Vases in a row. China stacked in the cupboard. Shelf after shelf of books, organized by genre. Sixty-year-old mixing bowls on my counter.

I’ll never use them, it doesn’t matter. I want them there.