Selling The Childhood 

Was I having a garage sale or was I selling the childhood of my daughters?  

Had I known how difficult it would be I would not have done it. It was painful looking at photos I’d not seen in years, and reading inscriptions inside books purchased by my husband and given to my daughters and I as gifts.  Everything was loaded with memories of the past.  I never cry in front of my children, but this was an exception. The waffle iron we hardly used brought me to tears. The ice cream maker we used frequently had the same effect.  I will not go into how I felt about the dolls and toys because I will cry again.

The blessings were there too of course. The house is a shell after all, and the things we used were just the trappings of an active, and mostly happy life: ice skates, ski’s, snow boards, bikes, and skate boards.  I loved seeing my daughters pitch in and help so much, and I am grateful for the women they have grown into, people who would spend the day doing this sort of work.  And it was wonderful to have my lovely neighbors stop by with their dogs.  I even made a new friend and we exchanged phone numbers to have coffee. 

What’s not to love about cleaning while people hand you money?  On Sunday, most of the big items were gone, and everything was $1. I made $200 while scouring the cabinets with pine-sol.  

I am sorting the memories in the same way I’ve found homes for the things we no longer need or use, I’m keeping the ones I wish to hold onto and letting the rest go.  In this way, I am metaphorically creating the necessary space for the new and welcome things that will come into our lives in the future.

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