Learning To Let Go So I Can Hold On

There's almost always a basket of clean, unfolded clothes in our bedroom that never get put away. The vacuum cleaner rarely leaves the dining room because I'm always going to "get to those floors tomorrow." Boxes of old clothes and photos wait patiently for me to organize and have been for six months.

Let go. 

There was once a time that I could enjoy a quick trip to the store to buy groceries;  get my hair done without thinking twice about the day or time; run to the mall for a new shirt or two.

Let go. 

I used to run. 10, 15, sometimes 20 miles a week depending on my mood. It cleared my head. It made me feel alive.  I did it for me.

Let go. 

These days? These days I feel like a million bucks when I sleep 6 consecutive hours.  Exercising is  lifting my 15 pound baby in and out of the car seat. Socializing means singing "10 little monkeys" for the eighth time in two hours just to hear my baby giggle. Getting out of the house involves eating drive-thru fast food at the park with my sleeping daughter in the back seat.

These days, happiness means watching her eyes light up when her daddy gets home from work; walking hand in hand with my best friend as we push a stroller during sunset; waking up on a Saturday morning to small hands on my face and spit-up on my pillow.

Putting away dishes I catch her smiling at the toy giraffe as she fumbles with its rubber limbs. It drops to the floor and her eyes find mine. And she smiles a smile so big that I can't help but drop the towel I'm holding to pick her up and draw her close. Twenty minutes pass and after two more rounds of "10 little monkeys" the dishes are still there where I left them.   

Letting go. 

I'm a slow learner, but one day at a time I'm learning the laundry can wait. The floors, "Ill get to them tomorrow." Running? Oh, I'm still running. It's just a different route with a few more bumps.

In 20 years, dusty counters and dirty dishes will still need dusted and cleaned. But the moments spent with my baby will have passed and I'll only be left with sweet memories.

So today, today I think I'll hold her a little closer, a little tighter, a little longer.