Sunday, February 25, 2018

The Art of Letting Go

Everything inside me screams as my fingers are pried loose from that to which they cling. I want desperately to hang on, to hold tight everything I thought was mine/ours but the more I grasp and claw, the more painful the letting go becomes. My fingers are bleeding, my nails split and torn...

Life feels surreal. I get up every day and drive off to work, come home to an attic bedroom, look at my computer for an hour or two, and go to sleep just to get up and do it all over again. I'm making a difference in the days of small children, and perhaps the lives of my co-workers, but I don't know where I'm going myself or how to get there. I had dreams of my house being full of grown children and grandchildren on Sunday afternoons and holidays, but the dream has faded and all I have left is loneliness and confusion. I feel totally lost and very much alone today. Even if I am heading in the right direction, I still feel alone.

I've needed desperately to cry and tonight the tears are flowing. Grief is... grievous. We are both grieving. Somewhere, in the hopefully not too distant future, there will be a resolution and healing.

(To my Cabinetmaker, if you are reading this, it was started well before your phone call. Thank you for lending me your ear, and trusting me to listen as well.)


  1. Healing is never easy and always painful. Physical, mental, spiritual, social...and it's never fast...I remember Jill being in the hospital a year...we thought it would never end and she would never heal. Your journey is long and painful...but you are healing, and you are not alone...lonely, but too many people love you and pray for you, so whether you feel it or are loved.

  2. Wanda said it well... healing takes time.

  3. Sorry you are going through this. Hang in there.

    1. Life is a series of hard things. I am hanging in. Not all days are dark.
      Thanks for loving me.