I’ve been purging.
Unworn and I’ll-fitting togs. Tops and bottoms purchased for the image that was, and the hope of what could be. Socks that long ago lost their mates. Once part of a whole now relegated to the back of the drawer hoping for return of its mate.
And the boots and shoes. Do I dare mention the boots and shoes?
Instruction manuals and cords. Saved for equipment that long ago stopped working. Well-intentioned ideas pulled from magazines stashed away in the hopes that time would be found within busy days and too short nights.
Garage sale finds that never should have been found. Gifts whose usefulness never came to be.
Papers collected from meetings. Ideas collected from the image of what was, and the thought of what might be.
Resources books that long ago lost their appeal or usefulness. Relegated to the cabinet shelf in hopes that one day they might return, full circle and once again be the “next great idea.”
Trinkets of students past of whose names were once memorized, now forgotten. Lining the shelf, hidden in cabinets, tucked away in closets. Given with love or perhaps guilt, saved just in case. Just in case they might return and remember. Saved just because. Just because they were given. With love. They are tucked away, hidden once again in cabinets.
They escape the purge.