Let It Go

Hi Koko,

It’s been such a long time since I wrote to you. I have just been reading my earlier posts and think how much you’ve grown up through these mere months. I have been meaning to write this note for quite some time, but just never got around doing it. So much has changed within this time.

So your father and I were on this cleaning spree where I think we threw more than half our belongings in a bid to only stick on to things that spark joy in us. Clean as my home is now, I feel quite empty inside when I open my cupboard and see lined up clothes instead of my previous mess, when I know my favorite black lace top is not there anymore. I just realized that you are so much like me when you cried yourself to sleep three nights in a row for a blue sweater with three teddy bear heads sown on top. I am sure some less privileged kid is enjoying the sweater now, you know it too, but still you long for it.

Your father does not understand this behavior. It’s not selfishness, it’s not like you don’t want to share your things. You are one of those rare kids who is always open to share your belongings with others. But there are some things, yes material things, that you associate with a memory or a person and you have difficulty letting go. I have that too. That fountain pen whose nib is broken reminds me of a time I tried my hand at calligraphy, or a ticket to the Louvre reminds me of the time I had been there – apparent trash to others but treasures to hoard for me. You know what? I get it, I get you.

So here’s a promise from me to you, I’ll hoard your stuff, for as long as I can. The day I see it truly does not spark anything in you (not just joy, but not even a memory or a smile) – that’s the day I give it away, when I know you’ve truly let go. Deal?

Ma