Letting go hurts

Sometimes it seems that life is just one big process of letting go.  Letting go of what was.  Letting go of the things in your life you once cared about.  Letting go of old relationships and old expectations.  Letting go of your once youthful figure (yea, that's really looking back)  Letting go of your picture of where you live and who comes home for dinner and where you spend your holidays.  Letting go of being a Mom with a houseful of kids to a house with just you and your husband.  Even the dogs are gone.. (boo hoo)

I learned a very powerful lesson from a wise man some years ago who told me if things aren't working, then change your picture.  Create a new picture.  Create a new set of expectations.

This last weekend was a roller coaster of letting go and celebrating what once was.  My siblings and I came together from three different places to help my Mother weed out the belongings that filled  the Vermont house that our family has owned since 1973.  This was originally a second home where we went for holidays and ski vacations.  It became the full-time residence for my parents when they began their retirement.  The memories attached to this house are so rich and so meaningful, I am overwhelmed by them.   I celebrated my 30th birthday here.  There are stories.. oh yes.  There are stories.  There is a classic story of dear friends lounging in a jacuzzi tub, overflowing with bubbles and hilarity.  Yup, that is definitely going back to my younger, svelter self.

My husband and I chose to get married in this picturesque town.  We spent a number of winters in this house when my parents had moved back to their retirement community for the winter.  We shared the house with several other families- teaching our kids to ski and to play board games and to compete in an epic cardboard box derby every winter. We went on tubing adventures in the summer and watched spectacular hot air balloons float by overhead.   The family fun that took place in this house does not get much better.  As I sit here and remember, I am filled with such gratitude that I could have been so blessed to have such warm and wonderful memories.  It's not really the house is it?  It's the house as a vessel to shape and contain the memories.

There were other memories that transported us this weekend.  We discussed who should take a special chair.   It's a solid chair that has stood the test of time.  My Mom asked us if we remembered where it once sat in our childhood home in Massachusetts.  None of us remembered until my Mom reminded us that it sat in our "telephone room".  What?  You heard me right.  We once had a special room for talking on the telephone.  It was right off our front hall and was really nothing more than an oversized closet with a small desk and a solid chair.  This is hard to comprehend in the world we live in today.  It is hard to imagine going to a special room to talk on the phone.  But these are some ancient memories here folks.

I can't say that I miss having a "telephone room".  But I do miss those wonderful family weekends with the games and the skiing and the fabulous meals.  I miss the weekends when we came together with many combinations of friends and family.

Is there a graceful way to let go?  I'm not sure. My strategy, as in most emotion-laden circumstances, is to cry my way through them.  I did plenty of that this weekend and it's not over yet.  But I aspire to let go gracefully.  I aspire to embrace what is next.  I aspire to jump into the next chapter, the next place where memories will grow.  Anyone want to join me?