Let me go. There will come a time when I will want to go and you will not. You will not want me to interrupt a day of solitude to prepare to leave the house. It will be easier for you if I were to just stay home. (Which will lead into comments about senior citizen residence options). I will have to choose what to wear. Take a shower. Do my hair. Eat breakfast. Make sure that the coffee machine is off. I will drive into the city to get a colonic. I will shop. I will go to the dentist and shop. I will see a show or attend an event. And I will have no companion with me. Perhaps someone will meet me there.
I will do what I choose for as long as I can. You will not be able to stop me, and I won’t let you. The space around those moments will be the scaffolding onto which I will cling and regain my footing as I continue to climb up my life. The engagement is the catalyst.
I will drive until I don’t want to drive anymore. I will go where I want to go and spend my money the way I want to until I decide I don’t want to so that anymore. You will protest, and although you may sometimes persuade, you will concede. You may come with me or send someone in your stead. You may even convince me to stay home once or twice. But I will not stop, sit, or be silent until I’m ready to fall into your arms every once and a while. Then. I will stop. Then I will sit and be silent. Meditating, sleeping, eating, doing things in my mind. You will have to visit me regularly enough to know that I sit and wait for you. Your time with me is the reason for me to get up each morning. My time with you is what you will remember. My time with you will enable you to let go.
