I just have to share this letting go story with you. Yesterday, on our way to visit our daughter in Lancaster, PA, we stopped by the care center in Connecticut where Mom spent the last year of her life. On the anniversary of her passing, I wanted to touch base with the folks who had taken such loving care of her. However, I was more than surprised at the question presented to me by the women in charge of activities. “Do you want your mother’s half-empty bottle of Cinzano? We still have it.”
“Of course; We’ll toast her tonight.”
I’m still smiling over this act of letting go. Up until the last few months of her 101 years, Mom always had one glass of red vermouth. I know she would have wanted me to finish up the bottle. She had gone through the great depression, and besides, she was a Scot. I can hear her saying, “Of course I’ll take the bottle. We wouldn’t want any to go to waste, and besides, I paid for it.”
So here’s to Mom.
What does it have to do with silence, solitude and simplicity? Well, my mother’s modest Cinzano imbibing reminds me of the simple way that she led her life. She was clear about what was important, which included one, and only one glass in the evening. It was one of the simple ways that she socialized. Her solitude was extremely important to her, especially in the later years of her life, but she always knew that solitude was empty without community. Raising her glass with others gave her balance.