Hi,
My name's Becca Gardner.
Welcome to my short story,
The Art of Letting Go.
Lucy sat at the kitchen table,
Her hands wrapped around a nice warm cup of tea.
The house was still and quiet,
With only the soft hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence.
The sun had just begun to shine,
Casting a gentle glow through the window.
Upstairs,
The seven-year-old daughter,
Rosie,
Was still asleep,
Tangled up in her blankets.
Lucy cherished this brief moment of quiet before the day's demands would start to pull at her.
Yet even in this calm,
Lucy's mind was anything but still.
The argument she'd had with her sister the day before kept replaying in her head.
Harsh words had been exchanged,
Words she wished she could take back.
Now the guilt and frustration swelled inside her like a storm she couldn't escape.
No matter how hard she tried,
She just couldn't let it go.
The sudden patter of footsteps on the stairs broke a train of thought.
Rosie peered in the doorway,
Her wild bed head and the stuffed bunny she never went anywhere without in tow.
She rubbed her big blue eyes and smiled up at her mum,
Her face bright and unburdened.
Good morning,
Mummy!
Rosie's voice was full of simple joy that comes from waking up to a brand new day.
Lucy forced a smile.
Good morning,
Sweetheart.
Did you sleep well?
Rosie nodded eagerly and scrambled up onto the chair beside her.
I had the best dream,
She exclaimed,
Launching into a wonderful story about a magical forest with talking animals and beautiful streams.
She described every detail with wide-eyed excitement and her hands were waving around as she spoke.
Lucy tried her hardest to focus and try to be present,
But her mind just kept drifting back to yesterday's argument.
The scene was playing over and over,
Just like a movie.
She couldn't turn it off.
She thought about the sister's hurt expression in the moment and her sharpness in her own voice.
It all lingered a heavy weight in the pit of her tummy.
Mum?
Rosie's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife through butter.
Who?
Lucy blinked,
Realised she hadn't heard a word of Rosie's story.
Rosie was staring at her with concern.
Her brow furrowed in that way it did when she was worried.
Are you okay?
You look sad.
Lucy hesitated,
Not wanting to burden her daughter with her worries,
But Rosie's concern was genuine and Lucy felt a pang of guilt for being so distant.
Oh,
I'm just thinking about something that happened yesterday,
Rosie,
Lucy admitted.
Why,
Mummy?
Rosie asked,
Tilting her head in that curious way children do.
Lucy opened her mouth to explain,
But stopped herself.
Why was she still thinking about it?
I mean,
The argument was over.
The words were said and she couldn't take them back.
But here she was,
Letting it fill her mind and frustrate her.
I don't know,
Lucy said solely.
It's like my brain doesn't want to let it go.
Rosie's frown deepened for a moment,
Then her face brightened with a sudden idea.
Well,
Mummy,
You can just stop thinking about it,
Right?
Like when I had that nightmare last week and you told me it wasn't real,
So I just thought about something really nice.
Lucy smiled faintly at the memory.
Rosie had been terrified by a dream about a monster under a bed and had taken a lot of gentle reassurance to calm her down.
But once Rosie understood that the monster wasn't real,
She was able to let it go and drift back into her deep sleep.
But this was different,
Wasn't it?
The argument with her sister was real.
The hurt was real.
Or was it?
Lucy looked at Rosie,
Who was watching her expectantly,
Her words still hanging in the air.
Rosie wasn't telling her to control her thoughts,
Just to not get so caught up in them.
The argument was just a thought,
Really,
In this moment.
It's just a memory.
It wasn't happening anymore.
And it didn't really need to have the power over it unless,
I guess,
She let it.
Maybe the thought could pass like clouds drifting through the sky if she could just let it be.
You're right,
Lucy said softly.
I don't have to keep watching it.
Rosie beamed,
Super proud of herself.
Let's think about something fun to do instead.
Lucy smiled more genuinely this time,
Feeling a sense of lightness.
How about we make your favourite breakfast?
Pancakes.
Rosie's eyes lit up and she jumped off the chair and hurried to the kitchen to grab all the bits she needed.
As Lucy watched her daughter move around the kitchen,
Her previous worries were there,
But they were beginning to fade into the background.
The thoughts about the arguments were still there,
But they just felt less compelling and less important.
Almost kind of like less real.
As they cooked the pancakes together,
Rosie and Scythian were adding blueberries to the batter and there were spills and splatters everywhere.
Lucy couldn't help but laugh as Rosie giggled at the mess.
After breakfast,
They went out in the garden,
Where Rosie chased after butterflies,
Her laughter ringing through the air.
Lucy sat on the porch watching her daughter play.
She knew the thoughts would come back or worries,
Doubts and fears,
But she didn't have to get so lost in them.
Maybe she could just let them pass like clouds in the sky while she stayed here in the moment with her daughter,
Rosie.
Later,
As they lay on a blanket in the garden,
Watching the clouds drift by,
Rosie pointed out shapes.
A dragon,
A castle,
A bunny mummy.
Lucy smiled and pointed out her own shapes,
Letting herself be fully present in the moment in the best way she could.
And in that quiet sunlit moment,
She realised that her thoughts didn't have to define her day.
They could just come and go,
But she could choose not to get involved with them.
She could choose to stay here in the present,
Where her daughter's laughter and the warmth of the sun mattered more than anything else.
And that was enough.
I've been Becca Gardner.
Thank you for listening.
