Okay, so it is the first week I have missed posting a video since January. I had to let go of something in the last minutes of getting ready for our college bound trip, and when the video I was making corrupted, I decided to let go. I will be back next week with another one.
Letting go is something we learn to do over and over again in our lives. Forgiving ourselves as we let go, and remembering that we are human and not perfect, helps us to be at peace with where we are.
Each transition we enter in our lives is really a little death before it is something new. Because of the way our culture fears death, we don’t often call our endings a death, but they truly are. When something new is being born in us, we have to die to something old first. Sarah is moving from a graduated high school senior to a first year college student. Tony and I are going from a house that used to contain three daughters to a home with just two of us. In order to embrace the new, we have to let go of the old.
It is not easy to let go of the last daughter and willingly embrace a new direction in life. I am excited about what is coming for me,yet it is difficult to let go of the role of caretaker. While it is nice to think about buying groceries for two, I now don’t have someone besides Tony for whom to make a batch of pancakes or cookies. (Friends, let me know your orders- It is hard to let go of baking as that actually relieves stress for me!)
It is a bittersweet ending to a full wonderful 23 years of raising daughters. I know it is not the end, and the revolving door will kick back in and the girls will come home for spurts of time. And by then, Tony and I will be in a new routine and it will be a time of letting go again.
Dyings and Risings. The end and the beginning. There is another chapter to write in the days ahead. But there is a chapter to end first. So with tears, sadness, joy, anticipation, excitement, reservations, and slow acceptance, we deliver Sarah into her very own future, where the sun is shining brightly on a brand new day.