Letting go.

When we moved 4 years ago, I packed and hauled SO much stuff. Only because I thought it was my ‘identity’. These pieces and parts of my past, they had to come along. Perhaps because it is proof that I lived? Parts of my life in the past? I was the keeper of the ‘piece’. But WHO cares about it besides me? As long as my memory holds out, I can remember the things I was involved in. Trivial as they were, they live in my heart.

So now I have the job of cleaning the closets that hold these boxes of past ‘treasures’. Time to let them go.

fire_edited-1

Up in smoke — before I change my mind!  The pages turning, one by one, with the heat of the flame. The snowbank turning sooty around it. I could see the words as they fell. But this time it didn’t hurt. It was time.

Getting older is a time of letting go. As much as I hate the thought, it’s reality.  Mourning happens on a lot of different levels. I still mourn things that are gone. But today’s leaving was OK. And as I left the ash pile, fresh snow fell…turning the ground white once more. A nice confirmation.

Why do I struggle so with my identity– when I KNOW whom I belong to?

Please let my heart hold that ONE true thing.

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6 thoughts on “Letting go.

  1. Purging, as hard as it can be, is good for the soul! They are just “things.” The real treasures of our lives are the memories we have made, that will last long after we have left this earthly world. Love you my friend. ❤️

  2. We ARE in the age of “letting go”…but only of the paper, the clutter and the “things”. The memories are still there and because we have shared them with family – they will live on long after we are gone.

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