Saturday, August 27

On Letting Go

Letting go of your children isn't so tough if you let it happen incrementally, as it's meant to happen. It isn't so tough if you don't shove them out of the nest before they're ready to handle the wide, wide world. It isn't so tough when you say kind things to and about them, in front of them, and they know that they're welcome to put their hand in yours any time they need it; they will do it longer, and the instances will taper off gradually rather than awkwardly, but they won't ever stop. Completely.

It's still tough, and there are still the spontaneous knee-jerk desires to reach out and hold the back of the bike "just in case", or to call ahead and see if they've made it yet, or to send care packages filled with things you know they're perfectly capable of purchasing themselves, "but..." Yeah. It's still tough, but not in the same way as realizing, a few years too late, that letting go was not the same as shoving away. If you can keep that clarity, if you can nestle them in and let them grow, then you can smile when you catch yourself as they ride away. You can trust that they will call when they get there - you'll still worry, but not for the same reasons. You can go ahead and send the care packages, knowing they'll be received with a smile and the warmth with which they were sent.

It's tough to let go, but it's not so tough.

Zorak and I watched James and John take off down a brand new trail today. They stayed together. They blazed their own trail. They never looked back. We both stalled the desire to call them back. Then we both looked at each other and laughed. The boys are expanding their perimeters. They are exploring more of their world. They know they are safe, and that we're here if and when they need us. They know we'll come running if they call. We know they aren't going to ram anyone off the trail. Or chase stray dogs. Or eat unidentified plants. So yeah... It's okay to let go. Little by little.

We linked arms, we talked with Smidge, who, not entirely thrilled with letting his brothers go, sat hunched over in the wagon, looking every bit like my Grandmother when she was in a truly foul mood. We enjoyed being deeply in love with one another in this new stage of independence and growth. And we realized it's good like this. In their time. On our (cumulatively - all of ours, as a family) own terms. This is how it's meant to be.

For some uplifting, wonderful peeks onto the front porches of families who are farther along this path, check out some of these blogs. They have older children whom they enjoy and like. Their children are growing and spreading their wings, but they don't feel the need to take out everyone within their wingspan. It's encouraging to me, and I hope it will be encouraging to you, as well.

Schola - "We Have A Teenager In The House"
Quiet Life - "We Let Go Pretty Well"
Shades of White - "She Will Be Ready"
Mental Multivitamin - "What I Live For"
Complete Chaos 4 Us - I couldn't think of a snifty title- just read it. She enjoys her children and she's hilarious.

Kiss those babies, and young men and women.
~Dy

4 comments:

Donna Boucher said...

Thank you for all of the links and including my little story, Dy.

I don't know how well I will handle seeing little Katie head out the door.
But by then I will be so old and tired...I will most likely be happy to rest :o)
And maybe we will have many grandbabies to kiss...yeah...that sounds good!

L said...

Thank you, Dy, for including me in such great company!

I'm beginning to realize that by letting go, gradually and gently, we'll end up with a stronger bond in the future.

Though for years I never thought it, I'm with Donna, grandchildren would be fun. I'd love to do this all over again.

Donna Boucher said...

Dy,
Janie (from WTM) has a blog now...and she just wrote a very nice blog. She begins her last year of homeschooling...after 20 years;
here is the link;

http://seasonalsoundings.blogspot.com/2005/08/seasonal-sounding.html

I know you will like it,
Donna

Kim said...

On friday, I dropped my daughter off at the coffee shop a couple of doors down from where she worked. It was odd watching her go in with the other working folks.