A Pep Talk to Myself: Letting Go

While driving my own children to their respective schools today, I noticed the kindergarten moms dropping off their little bitties.

The reason I knew they were kindie moms is that they, themselves, looked 12.

They were walking to school, firmly grasping a small pudgy hand and escorting them safely to their "line-up" spot.  There were a few who were engaging in a bit of close talk with their children... as if the mere act of walking away from their mom and into a still-new classroom needed a pep talk. 

And it just might have.

When my firstborn left for school, she needed those pep talks some days.  

She was sure that her younger brother and I were going to be having all sorts of fun at home without her.  I would go into lengthy explanations of how we would be doing laundry and cleaning, and any other task I thought might be of disinterest to her.

Years later, when her little sister was born, she wanted to be home helping to take care of "her Baby"... a sweet term that later morphed into "Babycakes".

I assured her our day would be filled with naps and diaper changes and nothing she'd care to miss.

I reasoned that she needed to be in school to learn and grow and prepare for the big world. 

This sweet girl just began her senior year in high school.

And now, I sit... heart wide open and raw as I come to the startling realization that I will never again be her first choice.  

I know, without doubt, that my daughter loves me.

But the days of her choosing time with me over time with her friends have vanished.  

The pep talks, encouraging her to spread her wings a bit and fly are now directed towards myself.

Soon, she will take flight.

I have not even been able to address this topic in depth because of my profound sadness.

I'm not sad for her.  I am sad for me.

She is brave and strong.  

Stubborn and smart.  

She has big dreams and ample talent to reach them.  

She is beautiful and witty and just. so. wonderful.

This is what makes it so hard.

There will be so much of her that I will miss. 

My sweet husband reminds me that this is how it is supposed to play out.  This is the deal from the very start.  We are given children to nurture and support and love until our hearts might burst.  We guide and teach and mentor and coach.  We discipline and redirect and encourage and support.

And then, in a ceremony at a stadium on a hot spring day, we release.

But how?

There will always be more I'll want to tell her...  more that I feel certain she should know to avoid painful pitfalls.  But I must let her go and allow her to embark on her very own journey.

Unlike the peppy kindergarten moms, I cannot hold her hand and escort her safely through the rest of her life.  She may need an occasional pep talk, but mostly she will get by with the help of her friends.

I will remind her that I'm right here, and she will know it's true.

But it's time to begin letting go, and my head is struggling with convincing my heart to agree.

Selfishly, I wish I could keep the little girl who always wanted to be with me for just a little longer. 

Selfishly, I want to curl up with her and read Snuggle Puppy just a few more times.

Selfishly, I want to slow down time.

And so I embark on a journey of my own...

with great love, I need to learn to release this amazing young lady.

I hope that the world will take kindly to her. 

At least to this mama, she means the entire world!

Love, live and create with intention,

Kristi