Maturity

Now that cooler weather is here, I'm in the midst of organizing the attic and getting rid of stuff we don't need. 

Today, it was a lot of sporting equipment. I gave away 2 kites, one I've had since college; 2 fishing poles we bought for Josh's 8th birthday, which we spent at a Lake House (he's 31 now); some racquetball and tennis rackets (we prefer pickleball); and a couple of wiffle bats. The hardest choice I made today, though, was to let go of my roller blades. 

I've had them since 1990, and I love them. They are as cool today as they were then, with their steel gray exterior and multicolor ratchet buckles. I can't say when I last skated; after I took that spill on the basketball court while playing roller hockey and gave myself a fat lip, it wasn't quite as fun anymore. 

Even so, I could still picture myself ratcheting those buckles, putting on my palm guards ('cause that's all I wore), and I briefly considered holding on to them for at least one more skate. But then I realized that it might be time to be done with a few things, particularly the ones that could result in broken bones that might not knit as quickly as they did 35 years ago. So I put them in the car with a sigh and dropped them off with the other donations. 

It was the right decision, but I like to think of it as growing up rather than growing old. Or maybe we can just leave it as growing wise.