It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

I'm sure you all have lost something that was important to you. Whether it was your lucky marble, a favorite sweater haphazardly thrown in the dryer or a discontinued lipstick; you understand how difficult it is to let go of something that feels like a part of you.

Currently, I am grieving the loss of my favorite purse. Maybe it seems silly, but people attach memories to clothing. You never forget the details of a special event in your life. The clothes you wore are valuable details. The bag I'm talking about was the first large purchase I made on my own.

When I saw this bag, I fell in love. Initially, I experienced sticker-shock. I, of course, used multiple "phone a friend" lifelines. The purse was the perfect shade of brown and a fresh, lady-like shape with incredible details. Eventually, I was convinced that this would be an item I would carry every day. Utilizing the cost per wear formula I was almost certain this purchase would be beneficial.

The bag ended up literally attached to my hip. I was constantly getting compliments, and it went with every outfit. It exceeded my expectations in every way. The cost per wear ended up amounting to next to nothing.

My purse was by my side during many life-changing events. I wore it with my gray suit to my first real job interview. It sat beside me as my husband proposed. This bag managed to hold all of my necessities during my honeymoon and multiple vacations. It was a constant in my life.

Over the course of seven years it has taken a beating. The handles are worn, the stitching's coming undone and the lining is ripped in several places. It has had a long and fulfilling life.

Nearly a year ago it sustained irreparable damage. My faithful companion met a clumsy neon-colored slushie that left its mark (a large stain that covered the bottom third of one side and the entire underside). I was devastated. A 911 call was placed to the designer's customer service, and I was told there was nothing anyone could do to fix my beloved bag.

For awhile after the incident I continued to carry it on my shoulder. The huge stain stayed pressed against my side in an attempt to "keep pressure on the wound." I have halfheartedly looked for a replacement, but I lacked hope. During this time I have tried to let go. It has stood regally on a shelf in my closet.

I have tried several acceptable bags that have not come close to the standards set by my favorite purse. No website carries anything like it, and the designer has not made anything similar. I even checked Ebay and other online sites with no luck.

Recently I found a bag that left me feeling the way I felt about my old faithful. I hemmed and hawed for a month and finally broke down and bought it. I know it will never take the place of my old purse. I only hope that it will stay by my side through the next stage of my life. Now I feel closer to being able to say goodbye. I will respectfully send my bag into that great walk-in closet in the sky.

My old friend. It looks better in the picture than in real life.

Notice the discoloration on the bottom third of the bag:

That's from that silly slushie.