Releasing ties under a full December moon
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- December 31, 2023
- 1794
I am sitting at a gas station as cold rain drizzles down my windshield. I’ve just come from an early morning drop-off of my eldest at the Cleveland airport. I appreciate the long drive this morning as it’s giving me time to process this past Christmas weekend and everything that came with my kids saying goodbye to the house they grew up in.
There were many games of Boggle with challenges being whipped around the table as we used the dictionary like a weapon. We are odd in our love of words and their meanings, which is a satisfying feeling for me as a writer who loves words. But as things wound down and Christmas Day came and went, one by one they said goodbye and went home.
Last evening Belle wrote a letter to the house she moved into at 5 years old. As we sifted through things over the weekend, she found various pictures of herself in the house at different ages. There was much emotion scattering about as Christmas fell around us. Then she took that letter outside and, under a full moon, burned it. It was a release, a letting go, a thank you. George asked if I was going outside with her, and I said no — this was her moment of release of a house that had helped build her.
When we drive away, I’ll have my own way of saying goodbye.
2023 was a year of decisions and of letting go. I have no advice for the coming year except to tell you not to wait until it’s too late. Don’t be afraid of the next phase of your life. Being afraid is normal, but don’t let it paralyze you. I took the decision-making of ‘23 one minute at a time until I had worked my way through what was holding me back.
Today I look forward to the future.
The sun has arisen, or rather the sky has lightened into morning as the rain continues, and I need to get home after a few small errands. When I do get back from this airport run, it will feel too real. The house will once again be echoey and a little emptier than before. The kids chose things I had from Mom, a few gems from my vast coffee cup collection and little trinkets they’ve always wanted.
What struck me most about their time here was each one of them approached me separately about something they wanted that turned out to be the same thing.
Years ago I bought a chunky snowman with the sweetest, most joyous smile. I set him different places in our home when December rolled around and never gave him any extra thoughts except to smile and see him when he was unwrapped each season.
But unbeknownst to me, this snowman signified Christmas to my children — an inexpensive knickknack each one of them will have to bicker over keeping. It took my breath away, and I realized that while I adore certain pieces I got from my mom, my kids adore certain pieces that are mine alone.
A home is created inside four walls, and while security and shelter are important, what’s created inside matters even more.
Cheers to 2024.
Melissa Herrera is a published author and opinion columnist. She is a curator of vintage mugs and all things spooky, and her book, “TOÑO LIVES,” can be found at www.tinyurl.com/Tonolives. For inquiries, to purchase her book or anything else on your mind, email her at junkbabe68@gmail.com or find her in the thrift aisles.