Letting Our Children Fly

Little did I know on that day she was born, when I was 23 years old, that she would be my greatest teacher.  She would hold me as much as I held her.

In my 20s, she taught me acceptance.  I was a single mom for 15 years.  I was young for that time for having a child.  I did not have any friends with children.  I was still in university.  I had to choose my child over the parties and the traveling and happy hours and the trendy clothes.  And I did so without hesitation.  I accepted my role as mother... as single mother... without trepidation.  It was not without its challenges, but it was pure joy.

Into my 30s, she taught me to lead.  I had a quietly strong girl growing into her teens, and I wanted to demonstrate to her that she was in control of her own life.  So I tried to be a leader for her - a successful woman who was happy and grounded.  But she already knew.  She made decisions for herself.  She was wise and chose her own path.  She was not a follower.  Ever.  She did not choose to dress like others.  She did not choose to do what others did.  She did not listen to only popular music.  She had her own sense of style and magnificence.  She went against the grain if it was right for her... but not just to go against the grain.  There were times it suited her to be with the crowd, and so she did.  She knew how to lead her own life.  And I watched.  And I learned.

In my 40s, she's taught me curiosity.  She's opened my eyes to the world as she shaped herself into a beautiful, kind, caring young woman.  She chooses what is best for the world.  She listens carefully and thoughtfully responds to situations with skill.  With heart.  She questions things before accepting them.  Our sometimes colorful Sunday dinner discussions are always filled with depth and learning.  She shares her knowledge and she shifts her perspectives.  And I've watched this curiosity give her meaning and joy in life and guide her through difficult decisions.  And I try to practice what I see in her.

Now, this grounded, brilliant, creative young woman has flown away.  She's been living in our basement apartment for a couple of years, but now she has really left the nest.  And I have shed a few tears.  Tears of joy because she taught me so much.  Tears of happiness because she is fulfilling one of her dreams.  Tears of love because there is no greater love I have experienced than the love I have for my daughters.  Tears of emptiness because there is a void in my life.  Tears of hope because I hope she will face her challenges with the grace she has shown me every day for over 24 years and continue to live with joy.

As parents, we all have to let them fly.  We do not own our children.  They are on loan.  We are privileged to have the opportunity to influence them for this time.  When I reflect, I realize I always let her fly.  I'm just watching her fly further this time.  And the nest will always be here.

And I realize, too, that it is also my time to fly.