The accident and concussion brought a stillness to my life I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. The stillness was like being in a forest with no wind. The only thing I could hear were my thoughts. My intuition was on pause and my mind filled with memories, the not so good kind. 

The memories came flooding in with a fury that overwhelmed my body. With it was a familiar heaviness both my mind and body could feel. The stillness felt like quicksand. My body was trying to run but I just nestled in a little deeper. I was stuck but it felt necessary and intentional.

My stillness was begging me to lean in and do the work. It was a nagging feeling to surrender to what’s holding me back. Tiny things I don’t think about but that my body has held so tightly onto. 

And so I was still. I listened. I was angry, and sad. I resisted, as I typically do before the surrender. And then….I let go. 

I let go of last bits of hope I had for any return of the “before” she died. I released myself from the chains of hoping people would remember my loyalty, friendship and love I have for them. I don’t want to carry that burden anymore. I released my need to convince anyone I’m enough. I am enough, I was enough all along. I let go of some of the promises I’ve fought so hard to fulfill, but are out of my control to see through. I didn’t let her down, I can not change other people. I allowed myself to be angry for the hurt of not being able see them all through.

I let it go.

The expectations of keeping those promises were so heavy and I could not see it. In the stillness it all became so clear. I was asking myself, how can you keep a promise when you aren’t in control of the other people needed to help fulfill them?

And there it was, the messy truth in it all. The need to let go and surrender to the change, the change that had been set years ago, yet my heart just wasn’t ready to concede to it. In that moment realizing that for eight years I have carried the promises, changes, and loss of more than just her. More grieving only this time for the loss of connections with her children. Grieving the promises I know I can not keep, and not because I don’t want to or didn’t try. I can not keep them because change is inevitable, and time has led us to this place.

I grieved all over again, and was reminded that our friendship endured all kinds of hard things. We were truly family, the kind that does not quit each other. So I allowed myself to let go of all of it, knowing no broken promise can take away from what we had, which was love for each other. I brought into focus the many other ways I’ve been able to keep her memory alive. Letting go with forgiveness and love feels good, it feels lighter.

Change is one of the hardest parts of losing someone you love. Your body and mind trick you into thinking letting go somehow invalidates your sadness or your connection to the person. We try like hell to hold onto to every shred of the “before” but the truth is, you just can’t go back. Some people will stick around while others just can not keep any of their “before”, they will let you go. It’s ok, it’s all ok. None of it is personal, all of it is Likely necessary for their own grieving process.

Don’t be afraid to let go, you can’t lose a memory or love for someone. Those things are forever.