Letting Go
Thursday, September 5, 2024
I was reading Robert Birming’s post, Letting Go, this morning and had a rush of childhood memories and a little pang, and a sense of loss at all things I had to let go of, as a child in a military family. Any kid who’s grown up in the same situation, whatever the military: army, navy, airforce, will know what I’m about to tell you. That, as a kid, you learn very early on in that life how to let go. And how not to bawl your eyes out when your mother tells you in no uncertain terms, ‘no, you can’t take Charlie with you on the plane.’
Charlie being a three foot high stuffed toy chimpanzee, dressed in red shorts and yellow top who was my constant companion for two years. I remember fondly dragging him everywhere with me, and insisting he go with me even to the bathroom when I needed to pee. Even if he were heavier and bigger than I was at the time and probably needed adult help to be carried.
But when I was told at the tender age of 4 that Charlie was going to a new home and wouldn’t be coming with us, yes, I bawled my eyes out and was inconsolable for anywhere between 2 hours and 2 weeks. At that age time had no meaning to me and yes, it could well have been 2 minutes for all I knew. It was at this young impressionable age that I learnt the hard lesson of what it was to be a military brat, and that letting go was going to be a really BIG part of my life for the next 10 years.
I got so that I learnt from my older siblings—only be attached to items that could safely be hidden about my person, in a deep pocket, a coat pocket, or a pair of rolled up socks in my suitcase. Items small enough to not make my mother’s keen notice. And certainly nothing as BIG as Charlie that might need its own seat on the plane; something that was definitely not happening, ever!
It was my sister who gave me the best advice, older and wiser than I. She whispered to me to ask my mother one day, when we were all out at a street market, for a little over the shoulder purse. And thus was born my way of hiding even more childish treasure.
Even now, as an adult, I am capable of walking away from just about everything I own without looking back, carrying with me only what I can fit in my pocket, or my bag. And you?