Stop holding on to the things that clutter my home and my life

but I AM DONE!

or the bedding, so I moved some stuff around (I really should be stronger than I am with all the labor I do) and now my study has a daybed that does not look out of place and Mom’s former room has the chest that was in my study. It works.

I did manage to sell Mom’s nightstand. I got home and a neighbor came over with a $20 bill for me.

I boiled pasta and heated some olive oil with garlic and onions, then tossed with the pasta and a little cheese. It was good, but it was hard to sit at the table facing Mom’s empty chair. So I had to move to the sofa.

Baby steps.

Well, I made it into the frige. I’m still not cooking but did manage to throw out the jar of applesauce that was Mom’s last meal and the chicken soup I made her. I ate a salad. It’s progress, but not much.

or for as many days as it takes, is to face the refrigerator. For some reason since Mom’s death I can’t cook. I can’t go through the refrigerator or pantry and make the necessary decisions. I’ve eaten out, with friends or family, or skipped the meal. Today I have to face the frige! It seems to embody, or be the heart of the essence of my reluctance. I still have food Mom bought, though the freezer fiasco took care of the freezer stuff! I can’t seem to return to my favorite grocery store either, because each week, on Sunday, we would go and I still see her there, slowly making her way along the meat asile, or perusing the cake mixes. I have to change stores, at least for a while.

I can’t afford to eat out all the time and my weight, which I’d carefully trimmed by 11 lbs, has climbed again by 4 lbs. How I envy people for whom grief means not being able to eat! To me, eating is comfort. So I have to cook again, for sanity, for my waistline, for my bottom line.

Sigh. Why is everything so damn hard?

I had my yard sale today and sold about half of what I had out there. I took what was left to the Salvation Army and I feel good about completing this goal, though it was very hard to part with most of Mom’s stuff. It just made me so sad. I just wish I could stop holding onto the pain.

I’m not marking this one done until all my team members do! So get at it, folks! Believe me, if I can do this, you can!

I’m going through my Mom’s things and trying hard to not hold onto stuff just because it was hers. It’s hard but I realize that I need to pare down and keeping her greeting cards won’t help me, nor will preserving her room as a memorial. It is indeed possible that things can clutter the heart as well as the home.

What my Mom left me cannot be lost, or stored; it can only be passed on. The other stuff is immaterial.

I have used this goal to take my mind off my mother’s dying. It has helped and because I needed it so much I have made great progress. I will have my yard sale next Saturday! My front porch, which is the entire width of my house, is more than half full of stuff to sell and my station wagon is almost too full to drive.

My daughter helped me clean out Mom’s room last night and I have boxed up all her clothes and shoes, probably to give away.

I only have a few things left to do to complete this goal.

Now all that’s left is Christmas stuff and my papers. 35 years of being a writer leaves one with a ton of paper. Sigh. One of these days I’ll toss it all out, or my children will.

My front porch looks like something sout of Sanford and Sons!

My daughter will be here tomorrow from Tucson and I will make her help me with the attic. It will keep both our minds off the real reason for her visit and maybe give us a little fun remembering. I am dedicated to finally getting rid of all that stuff. I already brought down an armload of tiny formal gowns. Not one of us is a size 5 any longer. And I’m going to sell that toaster from the 1950s. Vintage, you know.