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Source: This Little Piggy

Source: This Little Piggy

Morning came early today. And it’s Monday. Not just any Monday, though. It’s the first Monday of (yet another) brand new chapter in my life. I’m not even sure what to call this chapter just yet. And I’m not really sure how I feel about it either. Love it? Hate it? At the end of the day, probably a mixture of both.

securedownloadMy daughter left this morning on an early flight to the east coast. For business. After four weeks of training, this is her first official business trip.  Of many! Wow. My arm felt like lead as I tried to wave goodbye. Her tail lights burned through the darkness, and then disappeared. Turning to come back inside, I saw “it”. THE poem. It has been on our refrigerator for a hundred years (give or take). I have shared this poem with many over the years. Mostly requested by other moms. When we got a new refrigerator we moved the old refrigerator out to the garage. The poem stayed intact. It’s funny though. I am in and out of the garage a million times a day, but never really “see” the poem. It’s just there as part of the refrigerator, I guess. But not this morning. No. This morning it was different. It was as if “THE poem” was covered in flashing neon lights, bells a’ringin… I stopped dead in my tracks to read it.

The garage door slammed shut.  I felt the darkness all around me. It was quiet. So very, very quiet. The hum of the refrigerator seemed almost deafening. She is officially all grown up. Out the door and off to new adventures, challenges, experiences.  It’s a solo flight for her; realistically and figuratively. Flights, rental cars, hotels… The real world; the unknown. Is she ready for everything? Definitely. She is a strong, smart, confident young woman who can handle anything. To say that I am proud – Well, that barely even scratches the surface of how I feel. Yes. I am VERY, VERY PROUD…!! But I am also a little sad. For me, not her. I am just not very good at this whole “letting go” thing. At all.

But… her time has come. “Time to soar, as she was meant to soar, free and ALONE. My job is done.”

kite alone“Children Are Like Kites”

“I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground.
You run with them until you’re both breathless.
They crash.
They hit the rooftop.
You patch and comfort. You adjust and teach.  You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they will fly.  
Finally they are airborne…
They need more string and you keep letting it out.
But with each twist of the ball of twine,
there is a sadness that goes with the joy.
The kite becomes more distant,
and you know it won’t be long before that string will snap and the lifeline that holds you two together will no longer be the same.  
A child, as a kite, must be prepared to soar, as they were meant to soar, free and alone, to the greatest extent possible.
And only then can we collectively say that we have done our job.”

– Author unknown

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