I can’t remember when I bought it, but for at least five years this steadfast bag has held my stuff, held my life, if you want to know the truth. It’s kept me organized, kept me sane. When I needed a card or a tissue or a pen, I knew just where to look for one, courtesy of its organized interior.

It’s not fancy. It’s not leather. But I could wash it and it weighed nothing (until I filled it up with too much stuff).

Inside was a wallet, slots for cards, an inner pocket and not one but two pen-holders. I noticed in the newer model of this bag, the one I bought just a few days ago, that the pen-holders have vanished. A sign of the times, I suppose.

But most of the other organizing tools are there, and, best of all, it’s brand new. Still, I’ll miss the old purse, its subtle shade of blue, its faux quilting. I’m thinking of all the places it’s been, all it’s seen me through. So here’s a toast to this old bag. May it rest in peace.