My grandfather passed away on Wednesday.  I loved him, with all of his imperfections, and I was lucky to know that he loved me too.  He said goodbye to me just in case, a few months ago.  “I love you sweetheart.”  A phrase I’d only heard a handful of times in my life, and all the more meaningful for it.

I’ve been able to accept his death pretty easily. It makes me feel cold-hearted and callous.  He was 90 years old, and he had a wonderful life and family to show for all of those years.  In the end his body couldn’t keep up with him.  In the last days he was in pain.  He couldn’t bare to have a blanket touch his skin.  The nurses hung it above him from strings on the ceiling.  I felt his spirit the night after he passed, I had this strange feeling that he’d soared around to each of our homes to given us one last wink to make sure we were okay.

When I felt his wink, I felt him telling me, enjoy every minute kid.   I’m grateful for the reminder that each day we’re granted is a gift.  I’ve been chasing my tail, running in circles at work.  Trying to please one boss and then another.  Struggling under the insurmountable weight of a heap of deadlines, ignoring my husband, ignoring my passions, ignoring my health.  This gave me a chance to press pause, and pour my energy into what matters to me, and ignore the absurd “fire drills” at work. (Don’t even get me started on corporate jargon.”)

I unhooked. I let go. And I felt my spirit soar, unencumbered by the obligations I’d chained myself too.  It’s my choice how much I let them run my life.  Unhooking from what doesn’t really matter to you in the long-run frees you. It feels good to be free.

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