It’s a week of learning to let things go, it seems.
Our younger daughter left Tuesday morning to head back to Scotland and ultimately to Cyprus, where she’ll be living for the foreseeable future. You might think overseas is overseas, but Cyprus feels more foreign–in language, in region, in familiarity. It’s a more dangerous area of the world, generally speaking. And it’s much more expensive to travel to and from, so we’ll likely see her less frequently. We’re so proud of her, and I want her to do the work she feels called to do. But my heart is also breaking.
Our elderly beagle is growing more frail. We just ordered doggy diapers (I’m sure he’ll love them–not!). He’s always had behavioral issues, and his body weaknesses are getting harder to work around. But he isn’t in pain, and so we do what we can to accommodate his needs. Our home smells like a men’s bathroom right now…ugh.
And my writing retreat with my other daughter is a no-go, because she’s sick.It feels like the final nail in the coffin. This collaboration is really challenging, largely because of the very health issues that are the core of the story. For many reasons, moving forward feels impossible. I’m frustrated because I’ve put so much time (both in terms of years, and in terms of hours just this week) into this. But I think it’s time to let this project go. Although I feel it could be a powerful book, I also feel like frustrations over the process are outweighing the possible future rewards.
Letting go kind of sucks, but sometimes it’s the only way to move ahead.