I am interupting the blog slacker series to share a little something with you.
I have been in the process of purging crap out of our house. As some of you know, I am also in the process of moving our bedroom to where Rush's was and Jellybean up to our room. Common sense would then dictate that the majority of the stuff I took to Goodwill was Rush's.
I felt good about getting it out of the house. Looking at the bags of stuff to leave (70 pounds I am sure) made me feel so much lighter, emotionally and physically; I felt free or something.
This morning I packed these bags and box into my car and headed to get rid of it - feeling pretty good about myself. I dropped them off, got back in my car and...
...burst into tears and bawled like a baby. I can honestly tell you that I never expected a reaction like that from myself. I guess it just made it seem all the more final. Now, all Rush's stuff* has been boxed up and tucked away for a day that she may want it (keepsakes, special things), given to friends, thrown out or donated. (*Stuff meaning the things she didn't care enough to take with her.)
But now it's time for healing, time to move on... I just really find that reaction bizzare.