But I keep holding on....

Pesach cleaning somehow always conjures up old memories. As I sifted through piles of clothing and possessions, I came across an old tattered notebook. 

I comfortably sat myself down at the edge of my bed, and opened it up. Suddenly, memories fluttered into my face, straight from those pages. 

This was the notebook in which I wrote down lists, poems and schedules. It was the notebook where most of my blog posts were born.  

With the scribbles alongside illegible handwriting, my life marked its pages. I pored over it, deep in thought. It was the documentary of a time gone by. It held my memories.

I was frozen in a moment in time. And in couldn’t bring myself to let go. I debated whether I should keep the notebook or just throw it out. 

Something within urged me to keep it. 

But another voice called out, begging me to let go of the past. 

And I did.

Because we can’t sit on the past forever. 

Because we have to move on.