What It Takes
I used to come to Tennessee twice a year: a month in the summer, and a week in the winter. When I came in the summer, I would put on a yard sale, and get rid of the things Mom and Terry didn't want. Best part was that I got to keep the money.
I should of saved that money.
I'm going home to visit on the 14th. While I'm there, I'm going to pick up some old things I don't use anymore and bring them back. And I'm going to have another yard sale.
This one means more, though.
This one contains eveything that is mine. This one is for a better cause: getting Conor here. Conor is moving here in January: 5 months early. Mom says we can live here, pay a small rent, and save together for an apartment. Maybe so. But right now...I'm so strapped for cash, I can't break into my savings.
I just can't. I'd do anything before I do that.
So I'm getting rid of the books I spent countless summer nights reading. I'm selling the jewerly I bought with friends in the mall, soaking up an otherwise wasted afternoon. I'm letting go of clothes I can remember wearing in middle and high school. Practically giving away a laptop that encouraged my poetry. Homecoming dresses, church clothes, pot holders crocheted with love, quilts and blankets and purses...bottles with corks, sunglasses and shelf sitters and things that I smile at, but never use.
And someday, I can tell my children how their daddy sold everything he had for my wedding ring, and how I gave up material things to bring him closer to me.
To home.
Because it's not about the material things. It's about the things you may not be able to see, or hear, but damn it you can FEEL THEM.
It's the little things that matter most.
And in this economy? Every penny counts.
Amen.
I should of saved that money.
I'm going home to visit on the 14th. While I'm there, I'm going to pick up some old things I don't use anymore and bring them back. And I'm going to have another yard sale.
This one means more, though.
This one contains eveything that is mine. This one is for a better cause: getting Conor here. Conor is moving here in January: 5 months early. Mom says we can live here, pay a small rent, and save together for an apartment. Maybe so. But right now...I'm so strapped for cash, I can't break into my savings.
I just can't. I'd do anything before I do that.
So I'm getting rid of the books I spent countless summer nights reading. I'm selling the jewerly I bought with friends in the mall, soaking up an otherwise wasted afternoon. I'm letting go of clothes I can remember wearing in middle and high school. Practically giving away a laptop that encouraged my poetry. Homecoming dresses, church clothes, pot holders crocheted with love, quilts and blankets and purses...bottles with corks, sunglasses and shelf sitters and things that I smile at, but never use.
And someday, I can tell my children how their daddy sold everything he had for my wedding ring, and how I gave up material things to bring him closer to me.
To home.
Because it's not about the material things. It's about the things you may not be able to see, or hear, but damn it you can FEEL THEM.
It's the little things that matter most.
And in this economy? Every penny counts.
Amen.