It was a typical day in my life. I went to my storage unit to retrieve a suitcase for my husband’s impending business trip. I reached over my head to pull out what I thought was an empty suitcase and then it happened.

The suitcase was full of things to my dismay. This mistake sent me on a physical rehabilitation journey. I didn’t know at the time that this was exactly what I needed to stop and reflect on my life.

When I was recovering from my injury I had time to think. I was thinking about my adult son blaming me for his life. I was thinking about all my failures as a young father. I was thinking about how my immaturity could have hurt my children growing up.

I was convinced that everything my adult children did that was not in their best interest was my fault. It must be because I made so many mistakes that I couldn’t count. I kept a roof over their heads and food in their mouths.

I did not call them in sick to school and would not let them miss school. I thought having a clean room was up there with determining whether you succeed or fail in life.

I was a fallen Christian, a damaged human being who wasn’t good enough for his own children. At twenty, divorced with four children in a time when a woman was little more than a second-class citizen, I rose up.

I got an education and worked odd jobs and eventually full time. I learned to be strong or at least to wear armor for the indignities I endured. I worked and lived in a man’s world. I couldn’t let anyone see me weak after all that was unacceptable.

My son was talking to me and I finally confided in him my feelings and how proud I was that, despite me, what a great father he was. It was then that he said a phrase that resonated in my soul.

He said, “Mom, you sure have a heavy and empty suitcase, all your children come from the same house, all your children are adults and make their own decisions and their own mistakes.”

It is ironic that he used a suitcase as a metaphor. I was finally free that day to move on and then my son set me free and became my friend.

Let go of what overwhelms you and enjoy the present that is all you have.