There is a possibility of my moving to a new school in a year. My wife has already started cleaning out closets and basement. It must be garage sale time!
When my stuff goes on the block, as it is later today, I get very sentimental. Dozens of old jigsaw puzzles command their own table. I remember every puzzle picture, having stared at it for hours when putting it together. My aging eyesight now sentences each one to the block.
More painful is getting rid of sports equipment. My younger son and I spent many summers together on the diamond and golf course. Wonderful summers. We had a large bucket of baseballs, and I would hit grounders to my favorite shortstop until he could flawlessly handle every hard shot or bad bounce. I had another bucket of plastic golf balls for soft toss.
Our golf equipment is also on the block. I remember buying his junior set of clubs: two woods, three irons, one putter, bag and pull cart. Walking down the fairway we’d hold hands. The following picture could have been of us.
My stuff might be gone, but not the memories.
Debit and credit – - David Albrecht