Choosing to Let Go…

Life doesn’t not wait but it ever marches forward to a beat that matches the rhythm of the living heart.  The dead do not care, they do not dream, they simply sleep an eternal slumber.  If faith in Christ gives us anything it is hope that one day this hollow pain we feel, this thorn in our flesh that reminds us of our loss, will one day end and we will see those who have gone before.  So the choice is clear isn’t it?  Or at least it should be, maybe.  It’s been months and here I stand at yet another crossroad.  Like petals torn from a flower, it’s time to let them go and watch the wind sweep them out of your hand.  The flower is dead.  You ripped it off.  The petals would have fallen off with time anyway.  But at least for a moment, you held it in your hand, smelled its fragrance, taking in its beauty in wonder.  Now it’s time to let it go and walk away.

Perhaps the most powerful realization we can have is that of free will.  I am not burying my pain.  I have embraced it.  I am not ignoring my loss and letting it fester like a deep wound inside of me.  I acknowledge that it has healed and there are scar tissues that has formed in its wake.  I will feel them when I least expect it.  It’s a reminder that I am still alive.  I get to choose how I will live my life, if I will live at all.

I have keenly felt this medical history that has been handed to me without so much a by your leave.  I do wonder if I will be struck down in similar fashion in the future.  Will cancer kill me or will dementia make me forget all the wonders of my life?  Perhaps God allows the storms of life to come so that we can learn to be still and acknowledge that he is still the God upon the throne.  It feels as if everything in my life is coming to a headlong collision all at the same time and the biggest obstacle at the head of this brigade is my loss, specially since tomorrow is Mother’s Day.  I keep thinking, maybe, just maybe if I can get through this then I will be fine. 

I read two articles today, one written by a mother and another written by a father.  They were both about the loss of a child.  These articles reminded me how close I came to losing my own son on the day he was born.  My mother’s cry of anguish still echo in my ears as I remember by body finally expelling this wrinkly purple looking child after over twenty hours of labor.  He didn’t cry.  His father’s face broke as he kept saying this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.  I remember only this absolute peace that everything was going to be just fine.  He wasn’t breathing.

I knew something was wrong because my midwife called the ambulance.  One of the other midwife actually got to the Birthing Center before the ambulance.  His father would later tell me of singing Amazing Grace to our son.  Before they took my baby to NICU, the midwife brought him to me so I could kiss him good-bye.  I forgot that my mother was there or anyone else and I just saw this perfectly pink little boy and he was really quite beautiful.  I didn’t get to hold my son until the day after he was born.  He was so tiny but the moment I had him in my arms I knew I would never be the same.  He changed me.  He made me a mother.

Today I am choosing to take off my hat.  I will stop straining to hear the faint echo of the word “daughter” from the past.  I will stop being angry as my anger doesn’t serve any purpose but to steal from me moments in the present.  I told her I am letting her go so today I am doing just that.  I am leaving behind the daughter and embracing the mother.  This is who I am.  I am a mother.  I don’t need a day to remind me of what I have lost or one to celebrate who I am.

All I need is this immense gratitude that I had an amazing mother who loved me the same way I am now privileged to love my sons.  One day it will be my turn to step into the doorway of eternity.  When that time comes, I will leave them behind but until then, I can’t be distracted by grief.  I need to love them as much as I can, while I have the time.  I will be with her again.  Until then, I’m here, so I’m choosing to let her go and move on with my life.  I need to.  It’s about time.