The Art of Letting Go...

So, since my journey, I have consciously been trying to let go. Let go of the life I had before I got sick, trying to let go of Brad, trying to let go of the loss of a baby. Today as I was contemplating everything and where I am, one of my favorite poems came to mind. "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. Here it is:

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster

Bishop writes that the art of losing "isn't hard to master." I wonder...is it really easy to let go and lose...do we make it much more difficult than it has to be? Maybe we believe it might be a disaster, like Bishop writes, but in the end...it really isn't so bad? I think maybe when we get to the end of our grief and look back we realize it isn't a disaster, but while living it, I can say first hand that it is a disaster.
When I look back two years ago, I honestly don't know how I got through it all. The only answer I can really come up with is that I'm stronger than I think I am...and in reality I think most of us are stronger than we think we are.
But the truth is I have had a tough time of it. By nature I am a pretty happy, go lucky type of girl. I've always looked at the bright side of things and have always from the time I was little, had a smile on my face. But this has been difficult for me. For one reason or another, I have found myself clinging to the past...especially to Brad. I haven't had much of a desire to date and move forward. I often think of the baby I would have and I find myself thinking of how much Brad has missed out on because he chose to walk away.
So, I get tired of clinging to the past and today I decided to do something about it. I remembered an old episode of "Desperate Housewives," where Gabby lets go of a balloon in a symbolic fashion of letting go of the baby she miscarried and the grief. I decided to try that out.
I went to the store and bought 3 red (my favorite color) balloons and then drove to one of my favorite running spots here in Salt Lake City. I sat in my car for a few minutes and pondered all that I've been through. I then stepped out of my car and gazed at the beauty that was all around me. I promised myself that this was it...I'm letting go of Brad, the life I had before I got sick, and the baby...and letting go of the grief that has often times suffocated me.
I released the balloons and as I watched them disappear out of sight, tears filled my eyes. Tears of sorrow for what I lost, and tears of joy and gratitude for what lies ahead. There is no looking back anymore. I went through hell, but that hell doesn't define me...I am so much more than all of that. And the knowledge of that fills me with great hope. Hope for a better and happier future.
I heard a quote on tv the other day and I would like to close with those words tonight.

"You can choose to blame your circumstances on fate or bad luck or bad choices. Or you can fight back.
Things aren't always going to be fair in the real world. That's just the way it is.
But for the most part, you get what you give.
The rest of your life is being shaped right now. With the dreams you chase. The choices you make. and the person you decide to be.
The rest of your life is a long time. And the rest of your life starts right now."

The rest of my life starts right now!