“Let it Go.”

By Danielle J. Clark

Let it Go

It was a typical Sunday in November. Sunny. Fifty-five degrees. Trees hanging onto their tan hued leaves and others bare, having already shed them.

The phone rang around 10am, “Hey Dad. How are you?”

“I’m great. Are we still going to see your Grandma today?”

“You bet. Come on over,” I said.

It always amazed me how full of life Dad was in the morning. Why couldn’t he stay like this? Stay sober. When I spotted the best version of my Dad, like I did during our call, I always felt guilty for never trying to speak up about his addictions, for never offering to get him help.

When Dad showed up, the first thing out of his mouth was, “You’ve gained weight.”

My eyebrows furrowed, “You never have anything nice to say. Have you ever called me smart? Or pretty?”

A few days after my dad visited, a new movie trailer aired on TV. It had a cartoon girl named Anna who reminded me of myself when I was younger – she was witty, feisty, playful. I have to see this movie – Frozen. I couldn’t explain why, but the pull to Frozen was deeper than seeing myself in Anna. Perhaps it was the silly snowman’s goofy personality showing me the laughs I desperately needed in my life, or maybe I thought the fairytale storyline would bring me back to my youth when princesses like Ariel and Belle gave me hope for finding the acceptance from my dad I yearned for.

Later that day, I called my sister, “Let’s take the kids to Frozen.”

“Well uh, okay. But since when do you care about Disney movies?”

My breath caught. She was right, I didn’t care about Disney movies, not since I was nine years old. There was no time for fantasy when my reality consumed me; Dad not around to help with homework, to ask how my day was, to cook a warm meal for me. But for some reason, after seeing the Norwegian-inspired kingdom of Arendelle and the cast of characters living there, I cared about the magic I had lost decades ago.

I remember every detail about the day we saw Frozen. I wore a red peacoat. We browsed a craft fair beforehand, perusing handmade ornaments. My sister had hot chocolate wrapped in her hands and I walked around with fingers bare to the cold. Deep within my soul I knew this was a special day, but I couldn’t say why. Family time was important but spending an afternoon together wasn’t new.

We went to the Woburn Showcase Cinema, the same one Dad used to take us to when we were kids. After my parents divorced, Dad had custody every other weekend. He’d always take us to the movies, sometimes for one, but usually two.

When Elsa sang “Let It Go” on top of North Mountain, I felt like I was in the cinema alone, an audience of one. She sang to me. Okay, I will stop trying to be that perfect girl, a perfect daughter. I won’t worry about what others say, what Dad says. I will let it go. I WILL let it go. My eyes welled up. I did the best I could to conceal my tears the same way Dad used to when we watched a sappy movie. He’d peer over to make sure I wasn’t looking, but I always saw him.

Afterwards, I skipped out of the movie theatre with my family, singing any lyrics we could remember. I vowed to be more like Anna again. To joke. To laugh. To sing. To be Elsa. To let it go.

For the following few weeks, the wintry scenes and soundtrack continued to fill me with joy. My intuition kept tugging at me, letting me know there was more to learn from Frozen, I just didn’t know what.

A month after I saw Frozen, Dad passed away from a massive heart attack after a heavy night of smoking and drinking. While at the hospital, I replayed our last face-to-face conversation in my mind; him calling me overweight and me calling him out on it. Guilt washed over me. Was I the best daughter I could have been for him? Could I have done more to save him from his alcoholism? Did my inaction cause his death?

As I walked through the front door of my house, I sang Let it Go in my head. In that moment, I understood why my intuition led me to Frozen.

Dr. Danielle J. Clark is a Life/Spirituality Teacher & Coach, Intuitive Empath, Business Professor, and Writer living in Tampa Bay, Florida. Learn more about her at drdanielleclark.com.