In yesterday's post, I talked about the envelope of basketball posters and clippings that my grandparents kept for me for 22 years. My grandfather found them the other day and gave them back to me when I visited him yesterday. This morning, my meditation was, "Today I give to let go."
As soon as I opened the envelope, I knew that I would be giving the contents to my daughter as today's gift. When I handed them to her this morning, she said, "Yeah, I saw that you wrote about this on Facebook!" She was extremely happy that she had some new things to put on her wall. I told her that some of the posters probably needed tape on the creases because they were old and had been sitting in an envelope for a very long time. I could hear the tape being unrolled in her room....to find out that she was attempting to use a big roll of packing tape. I got her a roll of regular tape and when I came back later, she had the posters and clippings on her wall.
Something about seeing these pictures up again after all these years made me happy. To know that she'll be able to play out her years of middle school and high school basketball of her own free will makes my heart happy. My parents forced me to quit when I was a sophomore, right after they pulled my siblings and me out of public school to homeschool us for religious reasons.
I've had to process a lot from my past over the years. When my daughter started playing basketball in fourth grade, the processing started all over again. While I was excited that she could play ball and wouldn't have to experience the same things I did as a teenager, it brought back a lot of feelings that I hadn't dealt with in years and had pushed towards the back of my mind. Many times over the year, since my daughter has been playing ball, I've confronted my anger and disappointment over not being allowed to play ball. It was the only sport I played and I adored the game. When the new season would start for my daughter, the anger would bubble up again and I'd confront it until it simmered down and I could put it away until the next year when the season started up again. My daughter is now in seventh grade and that means this process has gone on for four basketball seasons.
Today, I was given a gift when I looked into my daughter's room and saw those posters up on the wall. It was a gift of healing. While the rules and regulations of my parents' religious affiliation attempted to rob me of something I loved, it has all come full circle for me. I may not have been able to play ball those last three years of high school, but a part of my adolescence came back to me that couldn't be destroyed. Seeing those pictures back up on the wall brought healing to my heart. By giving these items to my daughter and being a part of the freedom she has, I was able to let go.
After all these years, I think I'm ready to forgive.