Well, this is really embarrassing. Whoever is in charge of my graphics misunderstood. I'm not MELTING, sheesh!
As far as I'm concerned, molting is a very good thing. If we never molted-or shed- we'd be a big mass of dead skin walking around. Isn't that gross? Do you remember the scene in one of the Narnia books about a dragon that went through a very painful molting? He come out of it a new "person". It's a chance to get to the things that are essential and stop carrying around dead weight, excessive baggage and all that. The analogies and metaphors aren't new but they have new meaning as we grow older. We shed excess pounds to feel and look better. It's healthy. Whether the pounds are measured as fat off our bodies or stuff out of our house or toxic memories, all this excess in our lives does one thing: robs us of the true joy of simple living. Back to the basics and all that. Debride the wound (medically speaking). Trim the fat. Clear out the deadwood. Accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative.
During the past few weeks I have attacked almost every nook and cranny of our 2,300 square foot home. Every photograph is not in my living room, sorted by person, age and activity. We have all the remaining photographs of the Friesen and Dick families going back several generations. All the extra kid, wedding and miscellaneous photos we gave to our parents over the years has come back to us to there are duplicate, triplicate and quadruples of some pics. An example is our wedding pictures. We have our wedding memory book and album, "Our Son's Wedding" album from Al and Dolores, all the negatives from our wedding, snapshots, formal shots, newspaper photos, articles and on and on and on. A forty year marriage is enough testament to the fact that we had a ceremony on a hot August afternoon. We don't want or need those. Plus, to be perfectly honest, that wasn't the happiest day of our lives. We were very young, still in college and broke. We took a quick "honeymoon" from Illinois to Kansas and two weeks later I stared nursing school and Dave continued on at Wichita State University. We had part-time jobs, an old--yet quaint--apartment and lots of stress. The wedding was simple. I wasn't one of those girls who tore out pictures from wedding mags and fantasized about my wedding all my childhood. Anyway, we don't need a lot of reminders of that time. We've changed, our marriage has changed and I like us a whole lot better now than then. So, last weekend we went to an outdoor cafe and with a sandwich and glass of wine, dug through our box of wedding pics and tore up about 2/3 of them. I plan to throw out more but now it's down to a small pile. Feels way better.
|One of our many Pismo trips with Grandpa Friesen.|
|The first time my dad met Emilie. Mike on hand to give advice.|
The most fun is finding long lost pictures that are real gems, then going through these with the kids. If I can't have those times back, at least going through the memories is second best.
|Mike with HIS pride and joy|
|A face only a mother could love!|
|Doesn't smell quite as good as a baby but she loves me unconditionally!|