Moving

Some people love to move. They change houses or even cities on a whim. There's a purging of stuff and a fresh start that they enjoy.

I am not one of these people. I get ridiculously attached to trees and memories made within the bricks and mortar. My childhood home and neighborhood is still there and I like it that way.

My friend is moving and it's a mixed bag of feelings for her. It's a good decision but like me, she's clinging to the memories. I keep reminding her that she has the magic touch -- anywhere she lives will be a home filled with love.

And hopefully, lots of great memories in the making.

Baby Stuff

The baby has almost completed his first semester at college. His room remains untouched. The mother-in-law goes in there to play on the computer. A couple of nephews have slept in there while visiting. Other than that, it's just the way he left it.

Closets and drawers are stuffed with items that no longer fit or he has no interest in. Stuffed animals that he could not sleep without have been moved to high shelves. They're left like little orphans. Their time is over. The bookshelves are a trip down memory lane. His favorite childhood books mixed in with some of my childhood books. All of his golf trophies and certificates from church are displayed. My baby shoes were bronzed and turned into bookends. Big Daddy's baby shoes were bronzed and they're propped on the top shelf. (Does anyone bronze baby shoes anymore?)

There's a pretty solid collection of VHS tapes -- everything from the Disney Classics to pre-teen favorites. I'm thinking I should put them on eBay. The video game machines are stilled plugged in.

I'm working up the emotional stamina to go in there and start the purge. What to save? What will be important to him later?

As long as we live here, it will always be his room. But, it's time for the clean up to begin.

I'm pretty sure someone will have to wring me out like a dishrag.