Getting Things Ready

It's hard letting go, sometimes.. like of a friend who died, of a close companion who has moved away, or of a child, suddenly grown up and not needing you like he or she did.

This is my third time to have the latter feeling. Once, for my oldest daughter, once, for my middle child, and now, my last time, for my youngest girl, almost full grown. For their sterling lives, for thier good friends that became my good friends, for their true beauty and intelligence, for the sensible caution and bravery in tough conditions that is my trademark and that I have tried to instill in each one of them, I thank them.

I am already missing you, girl. Missing how you needed me -- how you learned from me -- how you hugged me, always-- how I carried you around on my shoulders, and rocked you in my arms to sleep -- it all went by, so fast, too fast --

While you ache for freedom, for adulthood, for independence, and it looks to you like so many years away, so far that you must hurry, hurry out the door -- I want to hold you back, to ask you to wait -- It will be so quick, your going -- and it will be years to you before you know that your "grown-up-ness" is fait accompli.

Will you ever cling to me again, like you did then? Will you ever need me like your younger self once did?

Maybe. But the hope of every parent is that his child should grow up strong, and free, and able to outdo or outrun the sordid challenges she will face, with the innocence and courage that God provides, to see her through --

We, as parents, agonize for years about our chidren leaving us.

Because that very thing is what we have raised them to do, and we will have few further chances to teach them and they already know everything that they will accept; They say, "I need to make MY OWN big mistakes". Now, we can protect them only sometimes, now, we can seldom rescue them, now, we cannot shield them from the things that will most certainly hurt -- those things which we can no longer prevent, that go in tandem with being grown.

Someday, maybe you will come up to me, you will hug me, and you will say, "Thank you Daddy." And I will be drawn to a time and place long ago and far away, so much like heaven, the place from which you had so recently sprung forth to enlighten the lives of your mother and me.

But as is, my reward comes from seeing the fine strong young woman that I have raised, and my hope comes from knowing the few small lessons that I taught you, that I have conveyed over and over again to you and your older sisters, will probably stick and take root and be passed on.

God grant that this will happen, so that my life can be fully blessed. Then, I will see this old heart of mine grow young and strong in the lives of those yet to come.

Posted by Thom at August 03, 2002 04:55 PM | TrackBack