This past Christmas when we were putting the ornaments on the tree, I broke one that meant quite a lot to me. It says "First Christmas Together 1982".
All those years we put it on the tree as kids and it survived. It could have fallen anywhere on the carpet and been fine, but it fell on the base of the lamp and broke the top where it hangs. Now besides the fact that I believe in the afterlife, and question whether dad did this on purpose since it was his first Christmas with mom, it's a good lesson in letting go. Whether dad was trying to teach me that, fate, or this awesome minimalist chick at work who's been talking to me about emotional attachment to things, I think I'm catching on.
It's brought to light this bigger issue in my life about keeping things I shouldn't/don't need to. It's come to light because of Jon moving in with me to my 750 sq ft apartment, and how stuffed I have it with stuff. I've been going through stuff lately, like 4 boxes of cards people gave me down to 2. I've been giving stuff away, and letting go of things. I have to admit, it's felt GOOD. Cheers to emotional healing!
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