These past few months have been draining. It has not felt like a restful summer, however, it was a productive one. Outside of the obligations of work, my husband and I took time to refresh our home. We purged what no longer served our space and created a renewed sense of design aesthetics. Yet, throughout the process of creating a fresh and functional home, I struggled with letting go of objects and furnishings. This reluctance – this struggle to let go – got me thinking about how we often place sentimental value on things. Why do we do this? I mean, they are just things, aren’t they?
As I handled these tangible items that we were disposing of, whether a bookcase my Dad had built from repurposed pieces of white particle boards, to our son’s convertible bed frame once used as his crib, I found that I struggled to let go of them. With them, were memories of a time gone. Disposing of these items felt like I was disposing of times within my life that – if I’m being truly honest – I wasn’t sure I was ready to let go of.
I know it seems silly to be tearing up over the loss of a particle board bookcase. It’s just a bookcase! But, my Dad built it for me. He customized it to be both functional and aesthetically pleasing; and looking at that bookcase, no matter how old and damaged, took me back to a specific time in my life when I was struggling. My Dad knew I wasn’t okay, so he came to visit me and essentially rescue me. He brought with him ideas and tools to refresh my tiny basement bachelor flat. He helped me design and create a bright and functional space to thrive in – one to be proud of. And so, disposing of the last remaining bookcase [from that tender time] felt like I was disposing of the memory of that moment in my life. Perhaps that is a good thing – letting go of the lingering vulnerability and loneliness – but the guilt of doing so was overwhelming. I felt like I was betraying my Dad. I was giving up a tangible item that triggered a warm and happy memory of time spent with him. I had to actively remind myself that I am embracing my life as it is now, and to do so, I needed to let go of what was. As we removed the old bookcase from our home, I felt a shift within me. I was letting go.
Then it came time to work on our son’s room.
As we purged, rearranged, and stored away clothing, toys, games, and puzzles, the reality of what we were doing began to sink in. We were boxing away memories of our child’s ages and stages. As for my son’s bed frame? Don’t even get me started! Taking it apart and placing it in storage brought a rush of unexpected emotions – gratitude that I am alive today, parenting these milestone moments, and sadness that my beautiful boy is growing up. He is no longer my sweet and loving baby. He is now a sweet yet saucy pre-teen. It’s shocking to realize how quickly this time in my son’s life has passed – from baby to pre-teen. I have spent these past 10 years marking the passage of time against my cancerversaries. In that time, my child has grown and blossomed; and as involved as I have been, I also feel like I have missed out. Sometimes, I feel sad that he had to share his childhood with my cancers, but I am also incredibly grateful that I am here today to witness his remarkable growth.
The redesign of his room from child loves to pre-teen cool hit me hard – my baby is not a baby anymore. The nostalgia I felt was overwhelming. But I am very proud of my hubby and myself for learning to let go of the tangible items, and doing what we did for our son. We created a space that is a reflection of who he is now, not who he was. He came home from a vacation at his grandparent’s to an amazing bedroom reveal – a gaming haven for a pre-teen YouTuber! He was completely overwhelmed. His reaction made my internal struggles worthwhile. However, the idea to redo LM’s bedroom without his knowledge was not necessarily mine alone. It was born from my own personal experience – something my Mom and Dad did for me when I was a pre-teen – and those overwhelming feelings of surprise, excitement, and gratitude reside in my heart, always. We have now gifted that same experience to our own child, and hopefully, he will remember that moment, and those feelings for a lifetime.
Learning to let go of tangible items isn’t always easy. They hold with them, a small piece of yourself. Letting go of the items means letting go of that small piece of you. However, I do believe that the memories live on.
As I sit in my refreshed home, appreciating the renewed sense of coziness, I am satisfied that we took the time and energy to gift ourselves this calming atmosphere. We created a cozy living space with minimal yet impactful furnishings and redesigns. It is both inviting and inspiring. It serves our purpose in the now, not in the then.
Learning To Let Go. Published by Crystal Joy Hall
Featured Image by Gustavo Fring
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