Carefully I pulled back the tiny chair, situated at a small
table. As I sat down I knew a new
journey lay in front of us, I only wondered if I had the courage to let go,
surrender control.
Last night our oldest son’s school had an open house, a time
for parents and students to come in and get the feel for the school, their new
classrooms, etc.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a felt moved
emotionally. Moved in a way that signals
to me that a new time is upon us, and with it new lessons to learn.
As I sat in our son’s seat, I couldn’t help but wonder what
he will experience while sitting in this chair.
All the triumphs and near misses that are sure to come came rushing over
me.
It is really a strange experience, to love and care for
someone so much, to want to protect them, to want to make their world as
perfect as it can be…
When in reality their world can never be perfect, our world
is abundant with imperfection. In many
ways it is those imperfections that make for the most striking beauty.
Yet, somehow as I sat in that chair, realizing the
imperfections that wait, I wasn’t sure I was ready. I know he is ready; he is naturally fluid, just like life. He will no doubt, go with
the flow.
As I read to him the student, parent, and school agreement
around effort and support, I realized he was ready for this, ready for this new
adventure to take flight. In a moment
what had been my own heavy feelings was replaced with lightness, the lightness
that will propel him in this flight of adventure.
His enthusiasm and curiosity for what comes next reassures
me that setting him free is the only way for him to develop his wings to fly.
Nervously, anxiously, I wait. School starts next week and soon my
trepidation will be replaced with swelling pride at how well things are going.
But I know I know deep inside that what I am really feeling
is this: it all goes by so fast.
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