23 Hilltop

Despite the layers of wallpaper, the overcrowded rooms, the chipped paint on the exterior I loved you from first moment I first saw you.

When I bought you I was broken and trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart and destroyed dreams.

For 8 years, 6 months, and 4 days I called you home.

You helped heal my heart, kept my pups safe and warm in the winter, hosted family dinners, baby and wedding showers, withstood a tornado, hurricanes, and blizzards.

You stood empty for months as I traveled the globe, opening your arms as I walked through the back door when I returned home.

You gave me everything you had.

I thank you and I honor you.


On Letting Go

This past weekend I cleaned out two storage containers full of artifacts, letters, cards, and mementos I have held onto for years.   These containers have moved with me from state to state as I worked my way to Seattle and back home again.  They sit in whatever garage or basement I have available collecting dust as I moved on with life.

Lately I have been feeling the weight of them, a weight I no longer want to carry.

On Saturday morning I opened the first box, examining each item as I pulled it out. Playbills and pictures and letters, all evoking a memory stored deep in my mind.

Old friends long forgotten.

Ex – boyfriends who once wooed me in handwritten notes.

State championships lost and won.

Then I found the email.  An email from a very young love after we decided to discard each others heart.

After giving the email another read I realize he was not strong of enough to stay with me through a down period in my life. My smile faded for a minute and he count not handle it.

The words were right there on paper for my eyes to see, process.

All these years I carried this weight of him with me, on Saturday I finally let him and all my report cards go.

Directly into the recycle bin.