Letting Go

Letting Go

I've been pondering letting go.

A couple weeks ago I had dinner at Mom's with Joe. It was one of those chilly fall evenings, and she had a fire going. We sat and talked by the fire before dinner, then adjourned to the kitchen for a nice supper, and then back to restoke the fire after cleaning up dishes. It was in the lull before Thanksgiving, so everything was pretty low key. I realized as we sat that it would be one of the last - if it wasn't the last - times I'd be able to sit around that fire place.

Maybe six weeks ago I had to let go of my own house. I've been grieving that loss. Now I'm in the market for a house - why don't I just buy Mom's? I wonder... My two main reasons: location and effort are reasonable. Why would I set up a 35 minute (one way) daily commute if I didn't have to? Of course there are people who commute over an hour each day... I've just never been one of them.

The effort part is that that place was Dad's full time hobby for 50 years. I like green space, but not that much. Given a choice of playing music or trimming shrubs or pulling weeds, I know where my heart is.

And beyond that, it seems like the wrong decision to make so close on the heels of moving out of 1722.

So I'm trying to let go.

And which is the echo and which is the source?

With Christmas closing in I'm faced with a radically different holiday experience. For over 20 years I held on to an exquisite dream of Christmas. That dream, the distilled essence of the marriage and family, lies shattered like crystal hurled against a brick fire place.

What does it mean to let go?

The fact is, I'm not 35 anymore. My kids are well past 3 and 7, that golden age of mystery that I seem to want to preserve. When I put it in that perspective, why would I hang on? I'm delighted in the adults my kids are becoming. And at 51 I don't want to turn back the clock on my own life. But still, is there anything of that deep history that I carry forward? And in this first Christmas since separation, what does family mean?

While I wish there was someway to skip December and go directly to January, I know there is no shortcut: the only way around is through.

I may come back to this topic - or even this post - again. I'm still pondering.