Letting It Go

even all that

I’m back from New Orleans where my oldest son got married and I spent five happy days with all of my children and my husband and some extended family and new and old friends. It was emotional, exhausting, joyful, hilarious, delicious, musical, and full of stories only the city can keep.

A cold that won’t take me down but also won’t leave is still lingering. It rendered me voiceless for a few days, and I am still sounding a little rough. My tiredness is just on this side of total depletion and I am navigating my way to figuring out life. Does life need figuring out? I guess so, after 58 years of being very planned and very productive. Yes, yes it needs some figuring.

But first, I am letting go. 2025 has been a series of letting-go-events-and-mindsets. My last of six graduated in the spring, and that felt way more final that I expected. With that came a full release of my former spouse. Yes, we’ve been divorced for 12 years, but I have been parenting partner, manager, and facilitator in many ways since then. The morning after graduation in June, I sent him an email, transferring ownership of the relationships he has with his children into his own hands.

I could write a whole book on how to and also how NOT to manage a relationship with your ex and your shared offspring. I own that I did a lot right and a few things wrong. Divorce doesn’t end the relationship, and while we navigated ours better than most, I felt very certain about the need to really close the door on me managing it all. What those relationships look like going forward are now up to him and our adult children. I have high hopes.

The nest doesn’t really empty after high school graduation, but there’s a shift happening at our house that I like quite a bit. One college student commuting, one living on campus, the other four adult kids are launched. The weaning is gradual, but this year I declared to them all that my intense hands-on parenting will move to more of a consulting role. If that sounds cold for a mother to say, it’s a statement borne out of necessity and a need for self-care. I’ve DTM (doing too much) for so long now, this will really be better for all of us. They’re smart and capable and marvelously mature, the whole lot of them! I’m so proud of who they are. And I am still here for each of them, always. Momomomomomom.

And then I went and quit my job. I am unemployed. Retired. Relaunched. Reimagined. Needing copious amounts of rest and recalibration. Decompression and the need for slowing down is REAL. Sleep. Nourishment for body and soul. Reading so many books. Sitting in my pretty little library at home and just BEING. Doing absolutely nothing.

Today, I am writing from the Ridgedale Library, where there are people but not my people. There is a bit of ambient noise, but it doesn’t belong to me. There are no coworkers or bosses, no projects or deadlines. Why yes, I did just hit send on a proposal to do a bit of freelance work, and that’s ok. Last night at dinner with my best friends, I was asked “are you writing yet?” and also admonished “you can take a year or two before you really get into it.” Somewhere between today and a year or two is where it all begins.

Letting go of work has been hard. Not knowing what’s happening at my former workplace, with my coworkers, my team, all those projects and plates spinning in the air. I did really really good work there for a few years, and walking away from it was more emotional than I expected. What now? Who takes up the mantle? Who continues the brand? Will this or that get finished? Is everyone happy and thriving?

Let it go, Jill. You did your job well, and there are good people who will keep moving the work forward.

Let it go. Breathe. And then breathe again. Go for a walk, touch grass, release the people and children and exes and thoughts and obligations into the crisp fall air. The clouds can hold it all now. The colorful dancing sky last night can absorb all the feelings and cares.

Open.