Photo by Aamir Suhail on Unsplash I used to hold onto everything. Toys from my childhood, things that brought back painful memories, things I thought gave me an identity, and even people who took away my dignity and self-respect. Then there were the people who had passed. So devastated I was that I held tightly onto the things I received from them and boxed them up as if the memories might escape. Last year, when my elderly friend passed who I’d known since I was small, I thought about how another light had passed from this word. Even in her ripe old age, she was popular and always had people visiting. She always…