the long letting-go

I’ve never been one to easily let go of things that are “mine” — except for money, that is. That seems to slip away amazingly easily.
Situations have to get very, very drastic before I let go, even of responsibility. When I run out of closet space, storage space, time, and hope, when it’s obvious that I have no choice, then I let go — of people, jobs, old t-shirts, books, shampoos for blonde hair. And shoes. Sometimes, shoes are the hardest.
As a single mom, I kept my house in the country until, all at once, the roof leaked, the septic field needed to re-done, and the deep ruts in the long, up-hill driveway were beating up my undercarriage.
I have this fantasy of living like (what I prefer to believe were) my gypsy ancestors — a colorful life with few important possessions, an aura of mystery, and all the time in the world to be magically creative.
But I’m not ready for that yet.
I’m still in the long-letting-go phase.
When there are more bad days than good days, when the elemental connection is broken, then I’ll be ready.
I’ve begun cleaning out the clutter of my everyday life, beginning with the shampoos. I’ve got a way to go before I move on to people. And shoes.
Meanwhile, in this time of riding caregiving’s emotional waves, I hold onto the lifelines I have — my daughter and her family, my friends, this space.

2 thoughts on “the long letting-go

  1. Well, that’s certainly fair. For in the end (no pun intended) only you can know when it’s time. Only you can know when it is right for you.

  2. Give away ALL your shoes. Then go buy WHAT YOU NEED. I’ll bet you don’t NEED but about 3 pair.
    (And since that was so easy, go ahead and throw or give away all but 3 pairs of what you got. This down-sizing is a snap when you know how. Heh.)

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