On one of the lists that I am on we have been talking about grief.
We are a fiber group but we don't discourage off topic discussions.
When my dad passed away from pancreatic cancer I thought I'd grieved over the 11 months mom helped him live with that horrible cancer.
I was strong for my mom.
I had a wonderful dream where my dad came to say goodbye to me and he told me he was okay.
Several months later at the funeral for another family member, one I was not very close too, I broke down. I finally really cried. I didn't have to be strong. I didn't have to be angry.
My dad died over 8 years ago.
My mom had a yard sale this weekend.
How does this relate?
Well, she opened the closet downstairs where she had stored a lot of his clothing.
She was surprised.
She thought she had given most of his clothing away.
(His cowboy boots to a bookfair display and some of his suits to Seminary students. Other shoes to DAV.)
Today, she sold some of dads clothing at the yard sale and it was okay.
It was strange to look upon his cowboy hat sitting in the sun with a price tag on it and feel okay.
The sun was bright.
The air crisp.
The hat brought warm feelings and memories of Dad and DD1 both in their cowboy hats.
Dad with a grin on his face.
The hat didn't sell.
We put it back inside the house, mom will hang on to it a bit longer, and that's okay.