Of Surrender

A Place of surrender:

this is a place of surrender and it’s always been so — what I find is that even the things I cling to now have already been let go, lost to me in any meaningful way of holding on. Grieving is the art of recognizing what’s gone and allowing the deep sadness that arrives to takes it place without rush for it to leave. It’s a private sorrow and yet so obviously shared as well. With this, here, I recognize my surrender, the loss of my father and the roles we’ve played together. Everything’s now let go…

and becoming something other.

even while alive, his last few months, years really, this was a place of surrender, each moment we had to let go a little more of what was cherished and now no longer an option. My father lived this all with grace, his gradual decline of strength, from cane to wheelchair, ease of breath to need of oxygen, everything immediately accepted even with the wish of altering the outcome. There was no denial of his condition, he faced it all as fact, and only sought to strengthen himself for what was sure to follow, to be ready for a further letting go.

today is my dad’s funeral, tomorrow is my surgery for removal of skin cancer — this is always a place of surrender, each moment some aspect of life is altered in subtle, and sometimes sudden ways. Yet surrender isn’t a true loss, not total, for even now the…