I was part of a successful garage sale last weekend. The rocking chair was gone within minutes.
On Sunday a friend and her pregnant sister came over to look at some baby items and left with: a crib, stroller, maternity clothes, activity mat, diaper bag, breast pump and assorted sleepers. Sensing the meaning of this exchange for both myself and her sister, my friend said with tears in her eyes, “I think this is good for both of you.” It’s true. Pregnant and infertile – we both needed one another and I felt helpful, in a very small way.
I spent Saturday night and last night tagging items for Half-Pint Resale. It’s not until September, but the movement, the action, the process, helps me.
When I earlier imagined those haunting boxes of baby items and going through them, I thought I would be overcome with sadness. But it hasn’t made me sad. Last night I stopped a few times to smell the tiny newborn onesies and miniature outfits, but the baby smell was long-gone.
The smell I thought I caught a whiff of was my memories.