A few weeks ago I wrote a blog about letting go. Tomorrow I’m taking a silent retreat to say good bye to my mom, to truly let her go.
I’ll be performing rituals designed to help my body, mind and spirit understand that my mom’s time to be a physical presence in my life has passed. Rituals are beautiful supports for anyone who needs to let go. I need that support now.
There are no rules to rituals. I’ve designed my own. They include traveling to the hospital she was first diagnosed and asking for the part of me I left there to return to me. Yoga, breath work and journaling will be happening. I’ll be releasing flowers into the ocean. At the close of the ceremony, I will call my home phone and delete that message she left for me two months ago.
As I mentioned in that blog a few weeks ago, it is important that I release this message because I love her and because I love me.
This ending will require a moment of courage. I have called in help from my angels, guides and mom to provide that courage.
If all goes down the way my life usually works, I will dramatically dial home to delete this message and my husband will pick up and say “Hey there! How is today going?”
I will then huff between gritted teeth: “Matt!!!! I’m ceremony-ing my letting go. Rituals! Remember? I told you not to pick up between 5:35 -6:15 as the sun sets to the west.”
And then I’ll remember that in all letting go there should be laughter, there should be love and definitely there should be “mistakes” – perfection is not a requirement to doing a ritual properly or in letting go.
So at that point, I’ll hopefully be able to laugh, appreciate the fact that I have a supportive husband who has loved me with an intensity he hoped would somehow make up for the loss of a mother. I will feel joy that I have a husband who has always been there to hold me through all my “crazy.”
I’ll remember that but I’ll still huff-talk – “Hang up please and DO NOT PICK UP THE PHONE THIS TIME WHEN I CALL BACK!”
Then with less ceremony and more smiles I’ll call back, replay the saved message and listen to my mom’s voice one last time. Then I’ll hit the number 7 on my keypad (my delete button) and say good bye.
Would you care to join me?
Is there something you are ready to let go of now? How ’bout we find our moment of courage together tomorrow?
And if you don’t need your moment of courage perhaps you could send some my way?