The Things They Carried

New Year’s Eve. Out with the old, bring in the new. But we can’t seem to dispose of the past. I’ve spent the day with my mother, going over which items in the house my parents should keep, what to pass on and what to toss. It’s been a hard day.

Loaded in the car are my sister’s toys – her dolly china, her books, her toy harp, her radio, her hiking books. Some items my mother was not ready to part with; Theresa’s dolls, the family punch bowl, the Bunikins china.

It’s always bitter sweet coming home for the holidays. The idea of my parents’ liquidating, leaving their home. I’ll be glad when we leave tomorrow, and yet so sad.

It’s New Year’s eve; I carry a full beard and an extra 20 pounds. I vow to lose it all by the first of February.

Heavy.

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