Everyone speaks to us of loss when someone close to us dies. "I'm sorry for your loss," they say. And for a while, it seems valid and sensible and somewhat comforting to hear that. Not only do we seem to "lose" our loved one(s) to death, but we also may lose part or most of ourselves in the process, and have to work hard to redefine and pull ourselves back together, depending on how close they were and how much an active part of our daily lives, or depending on the complexity of the relationship.
|Cycles are natural and good.|
And that something that runs underneath my ego KNOWS it's okay. That's why the crying eventually settles into little sniffs and I don't run into the street screaming and beating my chest and keening forever. I go clean something. I go pet the puppies. I go start a creative project. I go. Something inside of me, and I would guess, all of us, just KNOWS.
|Resting in peace|
This is the part that has inspired me to examine the meaning of letting go. To let go is "to allow someone or something to escape or go free"; "to relinquish one's grip on someone or something." Source - https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=let%20go%20definition
|Each of us can pull up anchor and sail on.|
|Sometimes I need a little direction to find what I'm seeking.|
|Life in partnership|
|Gigglepuss wears a woodland headband I decorated her with.|
|I am so very proud of her.|
|She followed her heart to experience life and love.|
And sometimes it leads her back to us, where she peeks in, and I look at the clock and it's 4:44, or 2:22, or 5:55, or 3:33, or 10:10. And I notice that the video she created to send for her brother's wedding is exactly 1:11 minutes/seconds long. So many little signs to let us know she loves us. So much love wafting up from us to her in her new worlds.
So these are the thoughts I have around letting go vs. loss. We have lost nothing, and I am so very wowed by what we have created between us. It's lovely. It's enduring. And I'm okay with letting go, since it's very freeing for Jess, and for us as well.
We will meet on the same plane again, whether here or there, and until then, I listen and blow kisses when she sends her signs.
I should probably mention that it's still pretty good to hear "I'm sorry for your loss," since that's how we express ourselves when we perceive physical anguish around "the missing" feelings.
It's okay, it's okay.