I'm supposed to be working on my "sleep hygiene" yet here I am at 11:47 writing. I'll get there, just not all in one night.  I finally decided on and committed to a tattoo.  I have wish-washed back and forth for, I don't know, 20 years about what exactly I wanted printed on my body for forever. Call it a commitment issue if you want, I do, but the other day it came to me and that was it. Just like that. "Let go." It sums up everything on so many levels for me. At the core of everything, that is what we are supposed to do, right?
I was sitting in the church at Maddie's last practice before her recital. She was singing her solo part of the song she and her friend Lila were performing together.  I hadn't heard what they were singing yet and when she started, I immediately teared up. "You Are My Sunshine" came through the speakers in the most perfect little voice. She was nervous, and she was small, and she was perfect. That song will forever be my heart song. My mom sang it to me, we sang it together, I sang it to Connor and I sing it to Maddie. Now Maddie is singing.  Singing even though she says she doesn't want to, and even though she says she doesn't like people looking at her, she is going to stand up in front of everyone and sing. She is growing, every day changing, learning, becoming more independent.  All of the things that children are supposed to do. I see her and I see how fast time goes, how fast Connor went from seven to sixteen. I see how before I know it, Maddie will be looking for her first job, driving for the first time, giving high-five good nights instead of hugs, doing all of the things she sees her big brother doing now. I see that I have to loosen my grip, open my hands, let go. I have to let go of the things that I hold onto so tightly, thinking it will be too painful to hold it up and look at it, memorize the details, and then put it away. Just because we loosen our grip doesn't mean that we are forgetting, or moving on to other things like it didn't happen.  It means that we are resigning to the fact that time moves, situations change, life happens.  But when we are so caught up in holding on to how things are or used to be, or protecting things of the past, we forget to live, we forget that there is a plan for us.  That plan may very well be something that we NEVER could have dreamed up on our own. That requires another level of "let go" that I for sure haven't reached yet, but I'm trying.
I think my point is this, we have to let go so that we can live. I realized that I am always waiting to live, holding on to moments so that I can keep them for later, not actually living in the moment. So, at Maddie's recital, I made a point to feel the moment. Take in the details and feel them, not save them for later. I cried when Colin played the piano because he reminded me so much of Connor at his first piano recital, then I cried when Maddie played her piano pieces, and of course when she sang. I cried.  I also realized that when you let go, the things that we love and hold dear will float with us, like the red balloon. They never leave, they stay and are part of us if we just open our palms and let life happen.