Letting go

We spent Sunday cleaning for Passover. As always, I am reluctant to let the chametz go. I don't want to throw out the pasta. I want to preserve the option of having toast for breakfast. What if the kids want something? But this always ends in frustration. It always comes to the point where I just have to give in. Surrender to the inevitability of Passover. Of time and the journey. And then, when I let go, it gets easier and I get excited. The pieces fall into place and I enjoy the process of cleaning and bringing out the Pesach dishes. Remembering the recipes. The melodies. And we're off! Cana'an or bust.