Home on the range...

The old homestead is for sale.

It's weird.

It's only a matter of time before it's gone.

I've moved more times than I can count. I've even probably forgotten a few moves.

For some reason this move has me a bit rattled.

Maybe it's because my childhood memories are being delivered to me in bags and boxes.

Is it because those mementos always belonged to my parents - and essentially "home?" A place where I can always return should I need it?

Now I think I get how you felt years ago when this happened to you. I remember telling you "everything will be OK" and it was. But now I understand all the emotions and anxiety that creep into your subconscious.

You say "yes" to the offers because they're pieces of you. Should you say "no" they will be gone forever. These scraps of paper, brightly colored toys, or odd pieces of furniture represent a time in your life when you were being shaped and molded into the person you now are.

How do you say "no" to that? I get that feeling that my foundation is being shaken, so I say "yes" to nearly everything - hoping all the clutter will help stabilize the feeling I have of losing something important.