It’s just stuff, right? Furniture, dishes, pieces of paper. It gets sold, donated, or thrown away because it’s just stuff.

But here’s what I don’t get. Why is it making me so sad?

It’s because I remember Dakota curled up on the sofa, his head popping up as I came through the front door.

Or Willow, when she was barely six months old (wow, that long ago), laying on my chest, while we were on the couch, as I sang Tracy Chapman’s The Promise to her, because it calmed her down and made her sleep. And really, there is little better than a sweet baby falling asleep on your own body.

Or Justice running around the furniture, chasing poor Dakota, saying, “come here…come here…” in his cute voice.

Or the sippy cups that I bought for all four kids so they could drink at my house without worrying about spilling (ok, ok…I worried about the spills, they were just kids). :-)

Or Kooper and Lillynn growling at me as we crawled around the furniture playing Monster.

Or the entire family coming over for Christmas, for Solstmas, for Easter and the Easter egg hunt, for a graduation party, for a house warming.

This furniture has been with me since Dakota came to me. From the beginnings of Willow’s, Kooper’s, Justice’s, and Lillynn’s lives. There are memories wrapped up in it.

And now it belongs to someone else, and they will make memories on it.

It’s just stuff…but it’s also so much more.