Here in the empty nest, we’re lightening our load. I only want to carry things that are either purposeful, beautiful, or meaningful – or some combination of the three. Everything else can go.
Yesterday, I came across some red and white checked fabric. On its own, it’s nothing special and so with little hesitation I threw it on top of the give-away pile. But then I remembered the child-sized mattress it had covered, by the bay window in Quinn and Eliot’s room in our old house on 7th Street. And I remembered that the mattress had hosted much raucous play and eased many a nervous sleepover guest to slumber. When we moved, we left the mattress behind because all our boys, and all their friends, had grown out of it. I saved the fabric, and brought it with us to this house, and it has waited all this time to be purposeful and meaningful and beautiful again.
I picked the fabric off the pile, folded it carefully and placed it with the other keepers. Like us, it will have a new life, someday soon.