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| 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.
Divestiture
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.
