Letting Go

Do you remember the poster with the picture of a cat hanging onto a rope with a knot in it? Caption: “When you come to the end of your rope tie a knot and hang on.”

We know about being at the end of our rope. My aunt called it “being at your wit’s end.” So you make like a cat and hang.

The thing I hated most about high school P. E. (besides showering) was climbing the rope and be graded on it. If you climbed using only your hands - A. If you climbed using your hands and feet- B. If you could hang on the rope for 30 seconds - C.

Hanging on is harder than it seems.

I’m still hanging on to all kinds of things. I have trouble letting go.

My oldest daughter, Tiffany, is 32. I let go with one hand and hold on with the other.

My daughter Sarabeth is 17. She is in her senior year. How do you ever let go?

When both girls were learning to ride their bikes, each screamed, “Please daddy, don’t let me go!” They didn’t need to say please.

I know why we tie a knot when we come to the end of our rope. Because it’s better than letting go and getting hurt. But it hurts to hold on, too. We get stuck.

Sooner or later, cats like us have to open our paws and let go. But the threat of breaking something is always there.

I am constantly surprised that the only thing broken is my fall.