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Tuesday, February 17, 2015


It is very purgative to be cleaning my Lompico house. I have a huge garbage bag, mostly of my sister's old clothes she gave me, long ago. I have very few of her clothes now.  I am really letting go many of her old things.  I had so few of them; the ones of sentimental value, I am keeping, of course.
Lots of old school papers from the kids, which I am keeping in a special cabinet. That house has an incredible amount of storage, and will have more so, of course. The hardest part will be the kids' room, not only for the fact that right now it is a mess, but for the memories and the fact that they are grown and gone. It was so short a time from when we moved in there to those kids all leaving the nest.

I thought of how my sister helped us in those years and how much I wish she was still here.  She was not perfect, and I often felt obligated (because she and my younger brother were the only ones really there for us) to pretty much do whatever she asked of me. If she wanted to call at nine and keep me on the phone until one, even on school nights, I felt I had to do that.

I wish now that my sister had understood how important it was for me to have time after dinner to get the kids to bed.  Invariably she called at nine every night, just when the kids were getting ready to settle in, finish baths, etc.  I realize she had the same problem I did:  our violent family fights as children took place at night, so nights were a time of panic and fear. At the same time, my own therapist helped me learn to be okay at night and not hypervigliant. Yet, difficult as things were, she was truly one of my only sources of support and love in those years. I will be sad for the rest of my life that she never had the loving relationship she deserved, which I think increased her sadness and emotional vulnerability. There is so little of her left in the world now, and I am sad about that.

Still, it is good to get rid of things that no longer serve. We are, after all, not the sum of the things we carry into the world. I find myself wondering what is left of Asha's things: what did her husband keep of hers? I wonder if I will ever find out.