Letting Go

Letting go...when is it ever a good time for me to donate my pencil collection that has been with me since kindergarden? Or those oversized pillows my mother gave to my brother and I, so that we could sit comfortably on Sunday mornings, watching cartoons and eating breakfast? I know I am bad...really bad at purging, but I blame it on my incredible memory. If I did not remember so many details from my past, maybe items would not evoke such strong emotions. On my bed sits a stuffed little lamb that a family friend I love dearly gave me in high school, when I was having a scary surgery on my wrist. It was meant to make me laugh, because she called me her lambie love. Now, why on Earth do I still feel the need to keep that lamb on my bed? Do I really want to remember that surgery? No. I keep it on my bed because, when I see it, I remember how much love I felt in that moment. She took the time to give me a break from my pain. A small gift to make me laugh, to remind me I am loved. I am afraid to give that lamb away. I am afraid to forget. Items from our past are snapshots we bring with us to our future. Maybe I am not ready to get rid of my little lamb, but I can do my best with other items. In college, my best friend finally had enough with my ridiculous wardrobe, and practically forced me to get rid of any clothing that I had in my teens. I was not very happy at the time, but I realized later how great it felt to let the clothing go. I needed her rationality..her cold, honest, detached truth. If I really want to live as simply as I preach, it is time for me to value my past as my past, and know the future holds more beauty and love. No matter what happens to those pillows, I know my Mom still cares for me, and if Ballou happens to eat lambie, my dear friend will always love me like a daughter, for I will always love her like a second mother. Maybe I am focusing on the wrong side of the memory. Instead of attaching the importance of a memory to an object, maybe I should attach them to the humans that helped make them.
Today is the day I get rid of those oversized, lumpy pillows. When I want to think about Sunday mornings with my brother, all I have to do is look into his beautiful brown eyes. I will remember...I always do.