Letting go.
They say one day it’s so.
They encourage you to do it slow.
Do it before they grow.
So it’s easier to, you know…
Move on.
BEFORE they are gone.
Pull away.
That’s something else they say.
Let them learn to make their own way.
Don’t encourage them to stay.
Because one day…
It will be time.
And he’ll no longer be called “mine”.
He’ll belong to his peers, to his work and his fears.
He’ll belong to the world, to his pets, to a girl.
He’ll belong to successes and failures and such.
He’ll be busy and tired, and may not call much…
So let go.
No.
Absolutely not.
This is the only one we’ve got.
We’ll encourage the growth.
We’ll support his own way.
We’ll cheer from the sides as he first drives away.
We’ll hold tighter and tighter as each year passes by.
Being there when he wins.
Being be there when he cries.
We’ll rejoice at the quarterly phone calls, with reports of his life.
We’ll talk him off ledges and hold him through strife.
The leaving will come when it’s meant to, I’m sure.
(And I’m fine if he moves in directly next door)
Beautiful. I’m trying to think of something more to say but the words fail me. Just beautiful.