This past month I’ve been ice skating twice. It’s been a long, long while since I ice skated. The first day I stayed as close as possible to the wall. The second time it took me a few minutes but I was able to let go.
These past few days have been a lot about letting go. A lot of stuff is sitting on the curb. One of my family members said our dining area looks very different now that the microwave stand is gone and the curio cabinet mainly emptied out. If you want the cabinet, it’s still on the curb, please come and get it.
Tonight I just found out a teacher of mine from grammar school died a while back: I had no idea. Then Sunday night one of my coworkers died.
The moving boxes have begun to be filled. This is going to be a long process but a short one at the same time. If I look at something and am like: I don’t want to move you, the next stop is the curb.
I’m grateful I had the chance to know these two people. One bailed me out of a broken down car once on a winter’s day and I worked with the other on their last shift.
One thing I’ve learned this year: loss and letting go are too intertwined, too bound together, yet they must be confronted together. Thank you for what you’ve given me.