Letting go means leaving the past in the past. Letting go of the hopes and the dreams and the plans that we had for the future.
We built onto our house so that we could fit our current family better but also with the idea that we would live there forever. We made our doorways handicap accessible and our bathrooms able to be used maybe with a support person like a nurse and a guest room that overnight care could stay in. And now that's not going to happen if we are not going to be there in our 90s.
Letting go of the idea of that we would celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary or our 50th. Steve's parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this year and it was hard to know that I'm not going to get there with anyone.
Letting go of my kids. My youngest is 17. They are growing up and moving forward and becoming people that they were meant to be and the best version of themselves and that might not include me as much as it has in the past.
Letting go of my teaching as a career and as something I did all the time.
I think the letting go is shifting. Shifting to retirement. Shifting to being a widow. Shifting to being a single parent. Shifting to being in a new relationship. Shifting to having my own business. Shifting to different expectations around meals and time together. Shifting on who's living in the house.
Lots of things involved with letting go and as most things with grief, there are no rules. Some days are going to be harder than others. Some things are going to be a trigger.
I need to let go of the past and move forward. I need to look to the future and see where I'm headed. I need to have hopes and dreams and goals and know that not all of them are going to come true or be met and that that's part of life. And it's okay.
And none of letting go means that I've forgotten. Letting go means not grieving, but allowing moments of grief here and there.
