Chapter 16

Let Go…

He sat down beside me, just as he had once done in the locker room. He didn’t look into my eyes. He wasn’t searching for my gaze either.

I kept looking through the airplane window.

The aircraft shuddered in the turbulence. Lightning flashed beyond the glass, and the clouds burned with white fire.

Then, all at once, an unfamiliar peace settled over me.

Not the kind of peace that comes when everything is quiet and nothing seems threatening.

Quite the opposite.

It was, perhaps, the most frightening flight of my life.

Yet inside…

everything became light.

And amid the storm, a calm, familiar voice began to pray.

Our Father, who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be Thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come.

Thy will be done,

on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

“Amen…” I whispered, barely audibly.

Together with my Angel.

The one who had always been beside me.

Even when I disgusted myself.

When I committed atrocities.

When I brought pain into other people’s lives.

I couldn’t see him.

I couldn’t feel him.

I didn’t want to know he existed.

But he was there.

Tears ran down my cheeks.

They overflowed my weary, reddened eyelids, caught in my stubble, and slowly rolled toward my chin.

They washed away the dry crust of my soul.

They watered the tender shoots of understanding.

Acceptance.

Love.

I fell asleep in my seat as though I were lying on a soft country featherbed filled with fragrant dried meadow grass.

I don’t remember what I dreamed.

And it doesn’t matter.

It was peaceful sleep.

Without fear.

Without hidden meanings.

Without obligations.

Only light above the clouds.

…

The storm passed.

The airplane touched down gently.

…

I wanted to find Nevian.

To thank him.

To embrace him.

But he was already gone.

“Don’t worry. He’s not far away. Thank you for flying with us. Have a wonderful day!”

The exhausted flight attendants saw me off with warm smiles.

“Thank you. All the best to you too, ladies.

You’re right…

See you again.”

…

A taxi.

Traffic.

I’ll call her.

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m all right. You hardly ever call these days… I suppose you’ve forgotten about me.”

“I know, Mom. You’re right. I’ve been busy. I probably should call more often. But what would we talk about every single day? Maybe what matters isn’t how often we speak, but what we say—and how we say it.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

Silence settled between us.

Then I heard her quiet whisper.

“You know… maybe he is right… Maybe I really should let go… Stop holding on… Entrust… Surrender… He’ll find his own way now. Even if he calls only once in a while… At least then it’ll be real. About everything…”

“Mom…

You’re thinking out loud.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Mom…

Do you know something?

Right now, I feel closer to you than ever before.

I understand you.

And I understand your pain.

And you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m here.

Call me whenever you miss me.

Not because you need something.

Just because.”

“And you know, Mom…

That slap on the back of my head…

Because of the pigeon…”

“Of course I remember… I…”

I didn’t let her finish.

“That was a long time ago.

You were afraid too.

Let it go.”

“Yes…

Let it go…

I think so too…

For now…

We’ll talk soon.”

“We will.

Love you.”

“Love you too.

And call more often.”

The line went dead.

Funny.

For the first time, I didn’t feel like cursing under my breath.

I talked to her…

and suddenly everything felt lighter.

I felt lighter.

Perhaps she did too.

Not completely.

But perhaps I had lit a small light inside the twilight of her sorrow.

Hmm…

Just now…

I was like a coach.

Thank you, Nevian.

…

Here it is.

The church.

I’ll go inside.

…

For the living.

May God grant health to all who are still with us.

…

For the departed.

…

I remember you.

I didn’t listen.

But you never walked away.

Thank you…

Thank you for staying beside me.

Even when…

Well…

You know.

When I killed you.

I finally said it aloud.

I had to tell you.

It was me.

And you never judged me.

You let me go, Nevian…

…

Then, through the silence and the fragrance of incense, I heard a whisper—

like the gentle breath of wind through an open door.

“Yes…”

A pause.

Then the same voice that had spoken the prayer returned.

“Letting go isn’t easy.

Waiting.

Doubting.

Believing.

But you would never have found your way back…

if I hadn’t let you go back then.

Back then…

it was time to let go.”

“And now?”

“And now…”

A gentle pause.

“Now…

it is time to receive.”