julierichmond

Colin’s football jersey from 2017. My son is twenty now, and I don’t know him anymore. I knew him then, and he needed me to drive him places.

A potholder with a picture drawn by Katy in third grade.

A black silk bathrobe I ruined long ago in the wash that I bought during the height of my “I’m never going to get old, rainy days are for sleeping in, and I love the dressing rooms at Lord and Taylor’s!”.

A picture of my friend Cici, who died so long ago, I’m not sure that’s how she spelled her name.

A necklace my husband Sheldon bought me at some club that looks like a dog collar for a dead stuffed poodle owned by someone who misses the 80’s and his pet, and has watched everything on Netflix.

So many single earrings and broken necklaces.

Two unopened bottles of coriander. I must have seen an incredible recipe somewhere, but I must have thrown it out.

I didn’t hold onto baby clothes and wish I could find the homemade Mother’s Day cards.

I don’t know where the tickets stubs are from the last time I saw Bruce or a baby blue sweatshirt from my friend Rachael. She left it at my house, and finally gave it me when I begged, or maybe I offered her something in return. It was the right shade of worn out blue, soft, and perfect. The cotton had a tiny blood stain on the sleeve from a car accident she’d had just after she learned how to drive and faded spots from where she’d tried to wash them out with bleach.

It’s funny I don’t have any regrets about everything I’ve sent to Goodwill or tied up in big, black, bags and left at the end of the driveway.

I still have sorting to do, and it appears I will have the time to ponder what stays and goes.

I have time to consider, reminisce, and hope.

Well, not much time, actually. I just started a new job.

My daughter is a vegetarian, my husband is a diabetic, and my dog has kidney disease, so making dinner is complicated.

I like to workout in my living room, read novels so thick I can use them to make myself look better on Zoom, and it takes me forty-five minutes to walk Sophia around the block. We have a fenced in back yard, but I don’t want her to get bored.

Watching Sophie sniff the same patch of grass for four minutes, and then move on to a bush for two minutes is incredibly boring.

But anything is better than choosing what to throw away and what to keep.

Well, not anything, but you know what I mean.