|Photo by Kathleen Tyler Conklin|
My friend Cindy remarked that she thought February was the dreariest month of all. I always gave that award to January in my childhood, because not much exciting happened in that month. For me, February brought Valentine's Day, two school holidays and the most egotistical turn on of them all---my birthday. Even something happened during Lent (which often began in February)---ashy foreheads, meatless meals and church rituals , which strangely managed to enliven the routine of dull January days.
However, I notice that my "special" day in February isn't quite the fun event it used to be because I have to now celebrate it in the chilly environs of "elderhood". Friends, food and wine do warm things up a bit, but I know as I swallow the last piece of birthday cake, it will be time to face again one of the major tasks of my mounting maturity---the dreaded downsizing. I'm working on it slowly, as are many of my friends. The angst of it all inspired me to write a poem. Take a moment to chill out and read it.
Sorting, tossing, throwing.
Investing in divesting.
Memories circle, whirl into piles on the floor.
Regrets, remorse sail into garbage bags... puffing out
with projects not completed.
Brittle papers cackle…testifying to procrastination.
The ceremony of divestiture, sad but cathartic
surrendering a lifetime of debris
in a solemn procession to the curb.