I’ve got one week left before the house closes. I was hoping to get rid of everything I can’t carry on my back but there are a few things I can’t part with yet. A journal I kept when I was thirteen. A letter from my sister when she went away to college. A snapshot of my nieces when they were little girls. I’ve been slowly paring this collection down to the smallest space possible and will be storing them at a friend’s place.
It’s been a difficult process of letting go of things. I know I’ve lost a ton of money on expensive items, like a two year old sectional sofa. Like my classic Porsche. But the hardest thing to part with is my collection of books. They take up too much space and most of them I’d never read again if they were in front of me, as they have been for years. But every one tells two stories. The author’s story and my own. I remember where I was when I bought it. Who I was dating. The time of year. It’s hard to let go of that link to the past.
But it’s time to let go. To look to the future instead of the past.