Phantom pain while waiting

There's a lot swirling around me today.

I'm working on cleaning up THIS:

(Don't judge me, haters. It wasn't this bad before I started "cleaning" it. Sigh) So I can have a garage sale and get rid of (read: not move!) all this crap.

Meanwhile I am waiting for:

Word on whether or not I have been hired

Dropping off the application for the rental house of my dreams, if I am hired, look below-great, right?

While cleaning, I found my wedding dress in a box. My thousand dollar confection of beaded ivory silk brocade, a true fit-for-a-princess off the shoulder ballgown with a six foot train. The dress was a size two before they took it in so much the seamstress was worried she would massacre the beadwork. I had not set eyes on that dress in over a decade, so of course, like a moron I tried it on.

Fucker still fit. I couldn't (can't) believe it.

And while I was zipping it up the thought came to me, that the last time I wore this dress, my grandfather was holding me in his arms and laughing, dancing with me and telling me he loved me, smiling and proud.

Have you ever just collapsed under the weight of a memory that real? I did. I sank to my knees on the floor in my gown and cried.

I don't know what to do with the dress. I don't want to keep it but because of that memory, I don't think I can let it go yet either.