Monday, January 30, 2017

letters to myself from the before time

  I am very excited to have moved. To provide a fresh start for my children is a godsend, but i am still struggling. Packing up the contents of a house that welcomed your babes home from the hospital, celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, lost teeth, little marks on the wooden trim paying homage to the bitterweetness of time and the growth of your children has proven to be very difficult. Although I have been divorced for years now, it wasn't final until the pictures were put in a box that won't be opened for decades to daughter wasn't officially a middle schooler until the last forgotten stuffed animal and sweet little flowery toddler dress was shipped off to the goodwill. So many ghosts in every corner that must be celebrated or mourned and sent on their way, not to be allowed in the boxes that will decorate the new shelves. We have laughed about the good times, and been brave about the bad ones, but it has been hard on all of us. Zane asked why, if there are ghosts and an afterlife, we can't remember our past lives. As I was packing up baby books enscripted with well wishes from loved ones who are no longer with us, written to babies who are now much tougher little adults, I answered that sometimes the experiences of life, the good and the bad, are just so intense that we might not have the heart to go through it all again if we could remember.

Here's to new beginnings...

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