“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.”

– Havelock Ellis

We have been spending some time clearing out our attic crawl space and unburdening our house of twenty-five years of accumulation.  It really is surprising to see how many things have been deemed worth saving by the two adults and seven children who have lived here — beloved toys, bins of costumes, enough holiday decorations to adorn several houses, yards of fabric, and even an air hockey table awaiting the use of the next generation.  A crib and a toddler bed are stacked in pieces, side by side, as tributes to times gone by and symbols of hope for grandchildren yet to come.  A plastic tote filled with hand-knit baby sweaters and blankets stays hidden in the corner where it will be safe from the ruthless ridding of the clutter that, like a modern archaeological dig, recalls the history of our life.

It can be hard to let go of the things that remind us of happy times, of long-lost childhood, of the bittersweet truth that in time we all change and leave behind who we have been as we move on toward who we will become.  We have saved these relics for the adults who once were our children, storing them away along with the memories until the day that their owners would reclaim them.  Now we discover, as we offer them up, that the memories they trigger are already etched in the minds and the hearts of the ones who no longer need their childhood possessions as reminders of those times.

Perhaps this is the final emptying of the nest.  As we once again find some open space, I realize that we are moving on — not toward endings, but toward room for beginnings that spring from the ashes of a part of our life that, well-lived, now is laid to rest.  The threads of our memories will be the foundation for weaving new sections of our life’s tapestry.  With our attic and our hearts filled with only what is needed for moving ahead, we are ready to see what the new day will bring.