On the table beside me are two men’s handkerchiefs, a small red Bic lighter, a dark red penknife, and a silver watch.

These are items that fell out of my father’s suitcase this evening, the one that I will be giving away as part of my fall cleansing process. The handkerchief still smells of him: cigarettes and Irish Spring soap. It’s amazing how our unique scent, like a fingerprint, lingers on so long after we are gone. My mother’s scent lingered on in her hairbrush for years after she passed on. I hold one of the handkerchiefs to my nose, and I remember my father. I wet it with my tears.

An intuitive told me ten years ago, after the death of my mother, that someday I would be ready to let go of her possessions. At the time I didn’t imagine how that would be possible. And I still can’t, not really. There is still so much I hold on to. But little by little, I know I will find the willingness to release these things.

This letting go of my father’s belongings coincides with preparing Sami’s baby clothes for the consignment shop. It is a slow laborious process of washing, folding, remembering, and sifting. I wonder what tiny soul will wear the clothes that once belonged to my baby. Who will that baby grow into? What kind of person will he be? I wonder who will put their clothes in the suitcases that once belonged to my father. Where will they go? Who will they visit?

The handkerchiefs, the penknife, the lighter, and the watch will not go. I will use them. I will use the handkerchiefs to absorb my tears; the penknife to cut away all that stands between me and the present moment; the lighter to light candles and incense while I sit in meditation; and the watch to remind me that time is nothing more than a figment of our collective consciousness. I am grateful for these symbolic gifts left behind by my father.

To slightly change the subject, today Sami said a new phrase for the first time:

“I did it!”

“I did it!” he said with a huge smile on his face, so proud of himself. The “it” that he did was to push the handle of the recliner back down after putting it up (I was sitting in it at the time and I must admit I helped by pressing down on the footrest a bit.)

How I love the energy of “I did it!” It is pure unconditional love, unabashed delight in one’s own capabilities. So often I shut myself down with the energy of “I did it, but I could have done it better.” Sami has none of that critical self-consciousness. How he teaches me to delight in myself.

Today, I did something hard. I have begun to part with some of my father’s belongings. But I did it.