Today, I sorted through their clothes: pink T-shirts, odd white socks and third-hand cotton dresses decorated with green umbrellas. I unrolled blue plastic bags and put things aside for one child and packed another for a friend. We found new second-hand dresses. Treasures put aside for a rainy day; despite the fact that it was sunny. I folded a tiny floral blouse, bedecked with little red roses, into a neat square and wondered whether I would hold another baby in my arms, need miniature trousers and 1 month old tights. I sighed with my seven year old as we tried to hold on to all of our favourite things, our arms too small for the weight of everything. " But, I want to keep it Mummy" my seven year-old said. I explained that we couldn't keep all our old clothes because there wasn't enough space on the earth. We had to learn to share and to say 'goodbye'. I was understanding, harsh, slow and fast; the odd mixture of the mother that I am.
2 comments:
this is one of my favorite of your posts: the wondering, the sighing as we try to hold on to all of our favorite things, our too-small arms, the not-enough space, the odd mixture
Thanks Cynthia. I am touched by your comments, your understanding of the strange imbalance that allows us to hold onto life - our children, our favourite things - and then to let go. There is never quite enough space, enough time...
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