Rushing Toward Pain, Letter To Dad 5

Dear Dad,

    Nadia is gone. At times its hard. I miss her presence; her cheerfulness, her messes and being able to chat with her as we are making a meal. The pain feels like a dull, large emptiness. I mean, I understand loss, unfortunately or at least I felt like I did until this. This is a different sort of loss. I miss her but its not just about her. Its about an ending in my life from active parent to what? I don't know what to call it, Unactive parent. I am working on letting go.
     I realize now letting go has an element of selfishness. Doing for her had mostly ended by the time she left. Doing for, helped me feel purpose in my life. Being an active mother helped me feel good about myself. To let go of that is hard too.
    I prepared, made lists of what I could do with all this new free time, reviewed goals for the year but its still hard at times. Enough whining!
   The thing I want you to know is, I'm proud of myself. I'm proud because of another take away from my clients stories about loss. They tell me about sitting with dying family; parents, children. They tell me about all the time and energy they spend with them toward the end. And sometimes they tell me about a sibling who just isn't showing up, who just can't be there for the parent, can't take it. And I think, I understand that. Wouldn't you want to have distance from that pain rather than rush toward it?
    I feel bad for them; the trade off is less memory and I think, more guilt about what you didn't do. And yes, I do have regrets in this area as well. Those type of regrets last a lot longer with me. It's hard to forgive myself for not visiting you enough.
     So this summer, I set most obligations aside. I spent as much time with Nadia as I could. I made myself as available as I could. And we spent more time together between her job, her friends and her own process of letting go. Good times. and So when she left, when we dropped her off at college and I got back into the car( because it took two cars) I cried really hard. It would have been painful but I think it would have been at least, an easier ending if I would have distanced myself. And I didn't. I rushed right toward that pain, like my clients. Half way through the summer I thought, this is really going to hurt. And it did. and it still hurts. but I didn't do what would have hurt less and caused more regrets even when I could see some inkling of the pain ahead. For me, it was an act of courage. And I'm proud of that. I know you would be too.

Love
Margot