349 Marbles
When Ex-man and I exchange the kids, he's been coming in and requesting various items that he needs for his new home. Now he needs the lamps. Technically, they’re “his” really – he chose them when we were together, and bought them. But I like the lamps – they are the ones I leave on so the kids can find their way to me at night. I can’t let the lamps go. Yet.
Part of me knows I should give him the lamps but I’m not there yet. I feel like I’ve lost too much lately.
They are my line in the sand.
I have looked at other lamps to replace them, after all, they are just "things" and things can be replaced, but I’ve become a bit entrenched and I can’t recede them to him. Yet.
I find it odd that Ex-man explains his foraging missions into my home like this, “I need to pluck a few things.” The diction is perfect, especially for him. There are a couple things that come to mind with that word – my grandma used to pluck the feathers off her chickens, I pluck my eyebrows – in both cases it’s the rapid removal of something that is attached. In both cases there is pain.
In this breakup, the pain doesn’t come from the material things that get plucked apart. What the material things represent is all the under the surface plucking. Consider two plants that have grown together for twelve years – roots have entwined – wee offshoot plants have sprouted. It takes a tender hand to separate the roots and transplant them without sending the plants into shock.
The good news is that the other definition of pluck is courage, and I know that despite the plant shock I may be experiencing internally, I have the pluck to reestablish my roots and to thrive.
Consider your joint material possessions. What are you willing to let go of? What do you need to hold on to?
Can you be okay with letting go?
Can you be okay with holding on?
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