What exactly is left behind when we move on to a new lifestyle? This question hit home for me last week when a health issue sent me to the Breast Surgical Oncologist.
My left breast. It took up a lot of room. It was no longer useful. I couldn’t sell it. I wouldn’t donate it. It was only the memories attached to it that I really wanted.
But when push came to shove, I couldn’t imagine having to part with it. Or part with part of it. Unless I was dying, I wanted to keep it. And so I did.
Fortunately, the surgeon agreed and I came home with it and found the perfect spot to give it the honor it deserves. I will take it with me when I leave here, knowing that I will always be able to revisit the decision at a later time.
But the sewing machine… that really has to go….
lessmuch 