Lately it seems the only time I write is Friday, when I link up with brave writers all over the world to write for five minutes, just five, on the same one word prompt. Hopefully it’s just a season and soon I’ll be back here spilling my guts and asking tough questions much more frequently. Anyway, if you want to play along with the FMF crowd, check out Kate’s blog here.
Mark Schultz sings a great song about raising children called “Roots and Wings”. There’s a line in it that says, “it’s only for a moment you were mine to hold” and I’ve heard it reverberating in my head the past few months. It seems like only yesterday my girls were babies and now none of them are even remotely babyish. As I get older time appears to speed up. Those days that felt endless with a grumpy teething baby and napping and diapers and mess after mess, well they take on a soft glow when I look back at them now.
My oldest is grown with a not-so-little one of her own. I look at her and can still see the face of my first and so adored baby girl.
My middle one is on the cusp of becoming a young lady. It pains me yet brings me such joy to watch her growing up. One day she was lining up 75 My Little Ponies and sorting them by color, and now look at her:
My baby…well, just don’t call her “baby” within her hearing. She may be double digits but she’s still on the small side, and she still needs me. A lot. Sometimes I chafe against all that neediness, but then I think about how I’m going to miss it when it goes, as it inevitably will. What will I do when I’m not actively, daily mothering? What will I be?
And while I want to hold on to all three of them with both hands, it’s my job to let them go. I’ve done it once. You’d think that might make it easier but it really doesn’t, because now i know what letting go means. We hold them for a moment and then we let them fly.