Two summers ago, I was sitting at my kitchen table studying the Christian Science Bible Lesson. The subject for the week was “Matter.” From my study that morning, I felt a strong conviction that life is spiritual. As I was just finishing my reading, I looked up and gazed out the window. It was a beautiful, early fall morning, and the tidal basin on which my kids and I live was a perfect picture of stillness. I felt the peace of the morning.
After a few moments of basking in that stillness, a strong, clear thought came to my mind, almost as if it had been spoken: “It’s time to let go.” I suppose in the back of my mind that I had been thinking about my late husband and the recent five-year anniversary of his passing. But I knew this thought was compelling something deeper than simply letting go of missing him.
I felt there was some unfinished business that needed attending to. And for me, it had to begin by taking the box containing my husband’s ashes out of my bedroom closet and finally letting go of them and all that they represented to me. My husband’s life was going on, and I knew intuitively that there wasn’t anything contained in that box that truly defined or belonged to my husband. So why had I continued to hold on to it?
