Hold on Loosely. . .

The other day (okay, it was a few weeks ago) when I was out for my once daily but now bi-weekly walk, I saw a mom walking ahead of me with her small son. She was dragging his now discarded scooter as he scurried gleefully ahead of her. I never saw their faces but I watched intently as they repeated the same pattern over and over again. He would run a half a block ahead of her and then come running back to hold her hand for a minute and then take off again. I never heard her say a word; no chastising threats about the looming street ahead; no frantic warning not to run too fast. No, this was a silent dance (except for the recurring giggles) that repeated itself for several blocks. And, as always, it made me think about my own children and about just how little things change.

If we do our jobs as parents, we'll give our kids the skills and confidence it takes to leave us. But, just like that mom with the scooter, we'll have our hands ready to grab onto in case things get too scary. When I watched that little guy take off, I could feel his delight in his independence; when I watched him come back to hold his mom's hand, I could feel his trust directed at the one person he knew would always have his back. He never turned around to make sure she was still there. He didn't have to. He knew she would be there to protect him, to look out for him. He could head for the unknown without fear.

Now that my son is living on his own and my daughter is about to be married, I can't help but think of that mom and her little boy. As much as I miss them being the babies and toddlers I fell in love with, I'm beyond thrilled at the competent, generous, adventurous people they've become. It may not always feel like it to them but I want my kids to take off; I want them to fly without fear.

My hand will always be there to come back to.