Letting Go

I did it. Clay's newborn clothes have been neatly folded and sitting in a bag ready to go...where? I couldn't get rid of them. I couldn't even put them in the attic. I guess I equated putting them away with putting his newborn days away? (Yes, that is the correct punctuation because I am not sure if that is the reason or not.) Whatever the case, I haven't been able to let go of them. Until today. Liz (a friend from work) is having triplets - 2 boys and 1 little girl! You heard me right, triplets. I know how expensive it was to buy clothes for one little kiddo, I can't even imagine buying for 3. I decided (3 weeks ago) that I would donate the clothes for a good (great) cause. Liz and her three kiddos. I have had them ready for 3 weeks to bring to work, but every time I came to work I wasn't (emotionally, not physically) able to pick the bag of clothes up to take with me. Well, I did it this morning. Was it hard? Yes. Did I cry? No. (Unless you count the "allergies" that happen to attack me at the very minute I handed her the clothes.) The rational side of me knows very well that they are just clothes, just objects, BUT (and it's a major but) the emotional side of me can only think "those little, bitty clothes touched his body once." Pathetic? Yes. I am slowly letting go of objects. I have never been particularly fond of keeping objects for emotional reasons, but that all changed back on May 22nd of this year. (The day my life changed for the better - the day Clay came sqwaling into our lives.)

That's all for now. I'm learning how to let go of objects. No object permanence for me.