“From my very head today, the day after my birth mother’s birthday. Someone called me and told me so many years ago, I invited her into my kitchen and there (without a knowing thought or motion) I gave her hope in the world by my mothering. It’s not that I think I am a good mother or even an effective mother. It’s that I am good enough….I have always hedged my bets that some of the ways I did things was right. It felt right and emitting love is so easy, you just have to be there in a moment for the person before you. The whole time and your whole self.
There are these women in my life, some for very short periods, who leave these indelible marks. I wear them like bracelets. Bangles, each one different. Made of differing matter, meant to shine one at a time. Now and then a day comes and I see a bracelet I didn’t notice before. And then the chance to give one away….real healing. Now that is sparkling. That is true bling.”
I wrote that last year. 365 days later, I have learned something about letting go. It really is about me letting go, not someone insisting on it. Someone’s passing is not the best time to let go. Unless, that’s when it happens for you.
The mother who birthed me. Who, it is said, would not look at me. The mother who brought 2 sons as well, for other people’s families. The mother who would deny the lives she allowed three times. Once by phone. Once by email. Once at her front door. No, he said. That’s my wife’s birthday, but she didn’t have any children. The mother who would succumb to a dreadful cancer. The news spread carefully, quietly. I thought I might feel it. Instead, I just feel like I let go. Its like when you’ve been wearing a favorite scarf or pin all day. Then you look down for it and when you weren’t paying attention, it fell away.
I think she fell away. I wanted her to know what kind of person I am. Maybe I was like her. I must be. I am not much like the family I was traded to.
The trick to letting go is in realizing you did. and even you didn’t notice. If you contemplate letting go and finding solace in the act, the moment it happens. That’s not letting go…that’s waiting for something to happen in your favor.
There’s really no going forward from here. My cells left with her in utero die with her. My ancestry, my people. You can be accepted into other tribes. It’s good enough. When life calls back to itself, it is the resonating DNA that wakes you up. It will wake me when I see my reflection. When I stroke my hair. When I look at my hands, my feet, my breasts.
If she was able to let go of me, I have to let go of her.