One of my favorite memories from college was a Tuesday night my senior year that Gemsong and I went to my mom's friend's art exhibit at a swank boutique west of Austin. The theme for the exhibit was "Pieces of Sky" as most of the art was watercolors of clouds and the sky. The hors oeuvres were exquisite, and the blue-skyy martinis were flowing. Later, Gemsong and I decided to continue imitating the high life, and went downtown afterward to Louie's 106 for dinner, and continued the merriment until we called her then-boyfriend to pick us up, because we couldn't even drive ourselves home from dinner.
That evening, before the martinis ran off with our better judgement, one piece of art stuck in my mind. It was entitled "Letting Go," and was very apropos for the place I was in my life. The end of university was around the corner, as was my own then-relationship, and there were many changes in my life to come. Letting go was part of that transition, and difficult for me to stomach. I briefly mentioned it to my mother sometime later, and at graduation, she surprised me by presenting the painting to me as a gift. My mother had talked her friend into selling the painting to her, even though she had her own sentimental attachment to it because she had painted it with thoughts of her oldest son going to college. I love that painting and is still one of my favorite things that hangs in our house.
This morning I dropped Lilly off at day care for the first time, and as is tradition, I have spent some time crying about it. I know she is in great hands, with people who will provide excellent care for her, but it doesn't mean my emotional side understands. I came back to and empty house, looked at the empty swing and started bawling. A few minutes later, getting a tissue, I passed the watercolor painting in our room, and kind of sobbed-chuckled at where I was in my life, compared to 7 years ago when I saw that painting. I think today is the first in a long line of days in my daughter's life where I have to learn to just let go.