i’ve usually found it easy to let go of my children. i don’t feel like holding on to their shirt as they pull away. i don’t feel less loved as they walk tall away from me. but the thing is, they’ve usually let go first.
eleven years and three very different personalities later, i’m catching on to this parenting thing…and i’m not feeling so good at it.
it makes my stomach swirl and my mind go fuzzy when i am the first to let go. i’m longing for an image of this. not a we’re walking down the street holding hands and then i pull away and run, but an image of love, strength and patience.
i let go when my seven year old sobbed at his classroom door. i let go when my eleven year old walked into a huge room of mostly strangers. i let go, though my heart was like a vice grip around them.
so i turn to prayer and hope they can feel the comfort of god. god through nice teachers and friendly children and cool water and a lunch that tastes good and outside air during the day and the thrill of learning something new and the satisfaction of creating and time passing quickly enough…