Letting Go
Memory is such a gift. It is thanks to memory that I can keep loved ones with me long after they’ve passed. It is memory that allows me to relive some of my best moments – moments of childhood innocence and fun, the days I started falling in love with my husband, the lessons I’ve learned along the way, the moments I’ve felt most loved. I am grateful that I can hold these thoughts in my head and my heart.
I’m also thankful for the passing thoughts that I can grab hold of when I stumble upon a worthwhile thought – the story idea that comes to me in the shower, the breakthrough in the problem I’ve been having, the self-reminders of the things I have to do each day. Sure, not every thought is worth holding on to, but I can sift through the unimportant ones and grasp the ones that I don’t want to let go of until I have a chance to follow through on them.
These thoughts that I hold onto are usually a gift, but sometimes I wish I could just push them out of my mind, if only for a few moments.
I’ve learned that my husband, along with a lot of men, apparently, can spend hours thinking of nothing. While he drives or mows the lawn, or when he gets that faraway look while we sit on the couch together, and I ask him what he’s thinking about, and he says, “Nothing.”
My husband has a logical, strategic intellect that is capable of solving incredibly intricate problems and navigating formidable challenges, but in those moments, his mind is truly empty. With very little effort, he can empty his mind and focus on nothing. And sometimes, I wish I had that superpower.
Like when I can’t fall asleep at night because my mind is jumping from one train of thought to the next. Some of them positive, some of them negative, many of them neutral, but all of them distracting. Each thought that I manage to push from my mind is replaced by two more like some psychological Hydra. And so I lay there in my bed, while my husband snores away next to me, chopping down thought after thought until my brain gives up and finally shuts down.
But when I wake up in the morning, those thoughts haven’t left. From the moment I open my eyes, they bombard me. I can’t escape them. My mind won’t let them go.
I’m thankful for the power to think, to remember, to hold on to my thoughts. I’ve seen what dementia can do, and for that very reason, I’d never hope to lose this power, but sometimes, I think it would be nice to be able to let go of my thoughts, if only for a few minutes.