Letting Go
Judy Ramsook
August 22, 2006
When I said good bye to my paternal grandmother back in November of ’85 little did my naïve mind at the time realise I was in a way letting go of her.
I never knew my maternal grandmother; she passed away at an early age, long before my parents even met. Although I did not weep openly, at the time I parted ways with my paternal grandmother, a portion of me did inside though, for sometimes life has a way of showing us how strange it can be at times.
Four years later while I was away at college, I heard of her passing. As I placed the telephone receiver in its rightful place, and while I was still processing the information just handed to me, again the notion of letting go came to me. Only this time, it would be permanent.
For no matter how many trips I made home, I knew I would never see that one person who was such an important part of my formative years; my paternal grandmother.
I remember how radiant her face was whenever she returned from her trips to the market every Saturday. Or maybe it was the quiet, respectfully proud way she sat next to the Pundit when she had her Hindu prayers at her home.
Those memories of her came flooding back to me as I set about the task of letting go. And as I lived and grew, I entered and left situations all the time. But those individuals whom I was letting go of are very much still with us, so that was the difference.
It’s when we cannot pick up the phone to place a call to that person or pay him/her a visit is when letting go can seem rather emotionally difficult.
During the course of a lifetime, people come and go from our lives all the time, or we subconsciously let go of people all the time. At the time we are doing it though, we don’t realise that what we are in fact doing is a form of letting go.
My niece and oldest descendant of my immediate family will soon be going off to college and again I will have to do some more letting go.
Something that has led me to wonder that sometimes all we get is eighteen years with some of our descendants. For after they return home from that first semester, you know some part of them would have changed in some way or the other.
They would have either matured a little or become more independent than they are presently. I wonder now if that’s what my grandmother was thinking too when she said good bye to me when I left for college.
I was glad to have known one of my grandmothers, because our ancestors are important. Without them, we would not be here or anywhere else for that matter.
Sometimes it’s the letting go that can be a bit difficult whether we say good bye to them while they are still alive and well or be it when their time on this earth is no more.
I never knew my maternal grandmother; she passed away at an early age, long before my parents even met. Although I did not weep openly, at the time I parted ways with my paternal grandmother, a portion of me did inside though, for sometimes life has a way of showing us how strange it can be at times.
Four years later while I was away at college, I heard of her passing. As I placed the telephone receiver in its rightful place, and while I was still processing the information just handed to me, again the notion of letting go came to me. Only this time, it would be permanent.
For no matter how many trips I made home, I knew I would never see that one person who was such an important part of my formative years; my paternal grandmother.
I remember how radiant her face was whenever she returned from her trips to the market every Saturday. Or maybe it was the quiet, respectfully proud way she sat next to the Pundit when she had her Hindu prayers at her home.
Those memories of her came flooding back to me as I set about the task of letting go. And as I lived and grew, I entered and left situations all the time. But those individuals whom I was letting go of are very much still with us, so that was the difference.
It’s when we cannot pick up the phone to place a call to that person or pay him/her a visit is when letting go can seem rather emotionally difficult.
During the course of a lifetime, people come and go from our lives all the time, or we subconsciously let go of people all the time. At the time we are doing it though, we don’t realise that what we are in fact doing is a form of letting go.
My niece and oldest descendant of my immediate family will soon be going off to college and again I will have to do some more letting go.
Something that has led me to wonder that sometimes all we get is eighteen years with some of our descendants. For after they return home from that first semester, you know some part of them would have changed in some way or the other.
They would have either matured a little or become more independent than they are presently. I wonder now if that’s what my grandmother was thinking too when she said good bye to me when I left for college.
I was glad to have known one of my grandmothers, because our ancestors are important. Without them, we would not be here or anywhere else for that matter.
Sometimes it’s the letting go that can be a bit difficult whether we say good bye to them while they are still alive and well or be it when their time on this earth is no more.
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