The kids and I ventured to a local bookstore recently, the kind that buys back used books and such. We had just finished selling what felt like our entire lives away at our yard sale. Fourteen bins of boy and girl clothes, pint-sized crocs and loafers, and the last crib mattress we owned. It was a liberating experience, but one filled with trepidation as I knew I could not bottle up that former season of life and live it again.
