Good riddance!

So, for the past two and a half years, I have shrouded myself in a pink or a purple hooded sweatshirt.  They brought me home, post-surgeries, they kept me warm in the chemo-chair, they covered my bald head and then they passed as "real clothes" while I was trying to figure out how to be a mom to three.  Over the past couple of years, I have worn them probably four out of every seven days.  (By the way, Moose Jaw, you make some seriously durable clothes!)

I have come to realize that I am an all-or-nothing kind of person, that I deal best with thorough separations.  And so, as one step in an effort to move on from the _____ (I don't mean for that to be a swear.  I just really don't know what I want to call IT.) of the past few years, my sister and I held a Hoodie Destruction Ceremony.

Notice the ceremonial candle in the background.  It just seemed appropriate.

It is finished.

Victory!

Just to make sure...

And then Madame Clicquot and Snyder came to celebrate with us!  L'chaim!

- a cleansing sigh-

P.S.  A funny note regarding the title:  I once told my GranniOna, as we were leaving her house, "Good riddance!"  I had no idea what it meant, but I thought that it sounded intelligent, because it was longer than "Goodbye."  Oops!