An Open Letter to Seamus

The Road Goes Ever On
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

-- J R R Tolkien

Dear Seamus,

You have no idea how good it felt to burn my spirit box: those little notes, quickly scrawled in a desperate attempt to purge them once and for all. I had so much bitterness to let go of and, although it was only paper and cardboard this year, it was a huge part of my heart that went into that pyre. I let go of some of the anger I was hanging onto over my brother's death, but, far more powerful, I was able to let go of some of the hope too.

I know you understand this, but that must sound sad to someone on the outside looking in. It's been 2 years of holding onto hope that they would find his killer. It was like dragging around a two ton anchor of hope. That anchor was necessary to keep me grounded at one point, but now it had become an unmanageable weight.

A terrible burden that I was afraid to let go of.
A terrible burden that it felt wrong to let go of.

But it went up in flames last night. And like you, I took that time to reflect upon just how important it really was.

My conclusion, honoring him and living well would be what he would want for me, not holding out hope on some resolution that may never come. A lifetime wasted on unconsummated vengeance, discouraged, disenchanted. He would not have wanted that to be my road.

And so my tears washed my soul a bit as the flames took my hopes and sent them to the spirits above. And I felt that release. Letting go of my burden and giving it to the Goddess I rely on to watch over my family.

I gave it to God, and the Goddess and all of the spirits above and around me, and I swear to you, I felt them receive my burden. I felt their hands so willingly take it up and away. My heart was lifted along with that weight and I felt the warmth of arms enfolding me.

He's in a better place now, and in much stronger hands than my own. I couldn't and shouldn't ask for more.

I have you to thank for the peace that enveloped me last night.
A symbolic gesture, true, but the only real sense of empowerment I have had in a long time.

I hope this new year brings you and yours peace and fulfillment.
I wish that for myself and my family also.