One day you might have children of your own
I fear this part, the letting go. I know my children are good, I know they understand right from wrong, I know they want to do their best, I know it is time to let go. I just hate the thought of it.
I have spent my time as a parent preparing my children for an independent life. I have taught skills, spoken of life with all its complications. I have explained the good and the bad. They understand life is a hot soup, to be tasted with caution, enjoyed to the last scrape.
I am not sure what it is I fear, broken heart, broken limbs, broken mind. These things can be mended.
I dread this part, the letting go. I know I am a good parent. I know I taught them right from wrong, I know I did my best, I know it is time to let go. I am just so full of apprehension.
I have spent my time as a parent trying to stop my children from making the same mistakes as me. I have explained choices and consequences. They have heard all the stories. They understand life is messy, a ball of decisions to be unwound slowly.
I am not sure what it is I dread. Failed career, marriage, potential. These things can be corrected.
I worry about this part, the letting go. I know that everything can not always be good, I know that sometimes right can be so wrong, I know that your best is sometimes just not good enough, I know it is time to let go. I am just full of foreboding.
They have spent their time as my children listening to my words but watching my actions. They have listened to my theory and seen me fail. The have witnessed love survive the whims of life. They understand life plays a game that they must play with honesty.
I am not sure what it is I am worried about, My parenting, my choices, my lines in the sand. These things will be judged.
I think about this part, the letting go. I know that in their lives there will be good, I know that sometimes things will go so wrong, I know that they will do their best I know it is time to let go. I think too much.
We have spent our lives together holding hands, I have carried their responsibilities, shared their fears and dreams. I have quietly mended, fixed and corrected, soothed and encouraged. I have watched them fill their bags will skills and grow strong enough to carry them. I understand they are ready.
I am not sure why I fill my mind with this stuff. A car accident, drugs, death. These things can not be undone.
I dream about this part, the letting go. I know they will go far, I know sometimes they will be back. I know I will be part of something bigger and I will once again teach right from wrong. They know it is time to let go. We understand the rhythm.
My children have taught me to trust in them. They belong to a new generation that is full of hope, energy and compassion. They share their world with others who have parents that worry and give advise. They reach into their bags and give me back skills that are improved and faster. They understand that they are ready but that I will always worry.
I am not sure what these feeling are all about. Emptiness, endings, beginnings. These feelings, fear, dread, worry, these thoughts and dreams. They just come.
It’s complicated, being a parent. You think you will be different. You think you know more, but the play is the same for every generation. All that changes is the scenery, the curtain will rise and fall as it always has. Good Luck, I will always be here.