There was no van Gogh museum when my mother purchased the prints in Amsterdam in the early 60’s. She was drawn to his art. Once home she had the prints framed and hung them in the breakfast room: Potato Eaters, Fishing Boats at Sea, Shoes. At least once a day if not twice, they were part of my consciousness. Then I left home and didn’t think about them again. Last week, I visited the van Gogh Museum, and suddenly her favorite works were there, hanging on the wall. It brought back memories and part of the emotion was akin to when you unexpectedly run into an old friend on the street.