Letting Go
19 years ago, before fall break, Brad left a note on the door of my dorm room. “I caught this and thought of you.” Attached to the note was a single, golden leaf.
That leaf - and note - became the turning point in our relationship. It became the symbol of two very flirtatious friends becoming more than that. It became the moment we decided, together, we would turn over a new leaf.
4 years later, on the fall equinox, Brad and I got married on a dock in Detroit.
We always loved the idea of the equinox. The idea of transitioning, of turning over a new leaf. It felt romantic and poetic to choose a date that rotated with the sun.
We liked the idea of letting go. Of welcoming change. Of evolving into whatever version comes next.
Until “whatever comes next” was Brad dying and me becoming a widow.
Since then, I’ve spent a lot of time gripped tightly to the past. The past version of life. Of our relationship. Of myself.
But even in grief, we must learn to let go. Not of the love for our people (that will always remain). But the previous version of our life. The previous version of what we thought our life would look like.
But it’s hard. And comes with so much guilt and fear and heartbreak.
Sometimes we hold on to the previous version of ourselves - and our life - because that’s the version of us they knew. That’s the version we were when they were still alive.
We want to hang on to the life we chose, not the one we ended up with.
But sometimes we need to let go.
We need to let go of the version of who we were to allow ourselves the space to grow into who were are supposed to become.
***
At last week’s Joy Scout Camp, around a fire and under the equinox stars, we all let go. Let go of the fear. Of the guilt. Of the expectations. Of past versions of ourselves.
With tears and relief and joy, we let go.
We made room for whatever comes next.
After the fall equinox, I asked some of you what you were letting go of. Here’s what was said:
Guilt (so many people said guilt)
Fear (and so many said fear)
Resistance around still grieving
Sadness
Bitterness
Stupid people
Holding it all in
Doing it alone
Obligation
People pleasing
Toxic relationships
Being unforgiving of myself