As my children left today with their Aunt and Uncle, on their first trip ever without me or my husband, I was struck by three things:
1. I love my boys deeply and madly, beyond comprehension. I want to be with them every minute and protect them and narrate the world for them.
And yet,
2. This world is theirs to explore, not mine to serve up to them on a carefully edited platter.
And as hard as it is to admit,
3. My children do not belong to me. I am only here to help them find their own roots and wings. They belong to themselves, and the divinity that shines within them.
And until we're all together again, I will meditate on these three things every single day.
(And I'll also cry and laugh and smile and fret and obsessively look back at 10 years of pictures, from the first ultrasound, to the picture I took just before their bus pulled away…)
Sigh.
