A friend asked me today how I was doing with getting rid of most of our stuff in preparation to move. A lot of things have been easy to part with. Things that are going to someone who needs it are also easy to part with because it's good to be able to help someone else out. Going through my books is hard. The ones I can donate to the church library or give to someone are easier. It's the ones that don't have an obvious new home that are hard. Those books that I like to have on the shelf in case I want to read them again or look something up in them or just remember them.
I ran across the course book from the University of Seville from when I studied abroad in 2004. The course book! The book that lists the courses offered that semester. Yes, I still have that! But getting rid of it seems so sad. No one is going to want that but it seems too cool, too original, too special to throw away.
Those are the things that are hard. The "things" attached to memories. The books I haven't yet read but want to. Even if they've sat on the shelf for 3 years and I haven't read them. Yet.
The dishes that remind me of a certain friend and our time in Europe. The mugs Josh and I got during certain trips. Blankets my Mima made for us.
It's the memories that are important and the memories will stay. I'm too sentimental for my own good, I think. Most of it's just stuff anyways. I think it's having to part with things and having to give up the convenience of having it "just in case I need/want it" that's hard.
So this process is good.