These Are My Memories

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This old gal…

Felt the pull…drawn to an item on the wall of an antique store…cross stitch…intricate…brought a smile to doodad-lover-me…

‘This isn’t clutter, these are my memories’…

Home from Texas…souvenirs displayed…it’s that time…that time those daughters of mine always see coming…that time that’s created a frenzy every year for the last forty…

It’s THAT time…clean and purge time…

Go through every closet, every cupboard, every drawer, every tote…sort through all the clothes, all the shoes, all the bags, all the toys…

And try to let things go…but that’s when the ‘what ifs’ kick in…

What if I lose ten pounds?…what if I need this for a project?…what if I decide to do a craft or go back to teaching or relocate or change my decor or want to read this book series again?…

Or what if…Heaven forbid…I suddenly have to just lay low, no longer moving and shaking, and I’ll need this…not this clutter…but these memories…

Because what are we without our memories?

Memories to sustain us…hold us close…memories from long ago or even just yesterday…memories that tell us we were important…we were loved…we were special…

Memories that say we made a difference…

Memories this old gal just may not be ready to let go of, quite yet…
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And this husband of mine…agrees…