Letting Go

I know it has been practically eons since I have harbored a moment to grace this page with the written word, but today, with my heart overwhelmed with a reminiscent spirit, I ask of my readers a moment to be a sappy, doting mommy.

Today, my dear daughter is absent having a grand time with her aunts in a late celebration of her birthday.  In her absence, I have begun a much needed purge of old clothing and broken or forgotten toys laid to rest in her room.  With earphones in and some good country power ballads playing, I began the daunting task of weeding through the outgrown clothing hiding in her closet. This is where the sappy, doting part begins.   

First, Reading Bee ribbons, remind me of a very proud moment and a mark of achievement.  Next, an Asian kimono brought from China to an excited little girl who has loved sushi as long as she could hold a spoon.  Further in, a tutu worn by a little princess in a modeling show where I still remember how her blue eyes shone bright.  As I remove some of these items and begin considering the need to create a memory chest, I begin sorting through the new, the frilly party dress she wore to her first dance, her taste in clothes bending more towards that of a teen instead of that little pig-tailed, blue-eyed baby girl.  Pictures don't do justice to what you feel as these items are packed away, folded into a box, almost as if closing a door on a part of not only her life, but also on my own.  I fold a t-shirt from her favorite university, the one she has known she wanted to attend as far back as I can remember and I see into her future. 

This year she has come to realize that not all who say they are your friends truly act it.  She has decided boys are not quite as icky as they once were.  She has realized society's pressures that she be beautiful, not just smart and brave.  We have walked through tears and disappointments as well as triumphs and accomplishments.  Through all of this, with our conversations that more often take on serious tones instead of the silly giggle sessions of the past, I realize that she is growing up.

This is when I recognize we are at the beginning of a winding path I am charged with walking her down, one that when the end is reached I will let her go.  I am not so short sided that I did not know this day would arrive, but the speed in which it did has left me reeling.  I am dizzied by how quickly the baby I felt so unqualified to mother I now feel incapable of walking down this road.  My heart fills with a happy sadness, if that is even possible, when I walk both the path of the past and the path that lays ahead.  I pray God gives me the strength to lift her up, grace to guide her and wisdom to direct her path.

A few days ago, we received what I believe to be my Father's way of foreshadowing the events of my life to come.  Ironically, it was my daughter who discovered this baby bird, not quite through shedding it's feathery down and just bursting through bright Blue Jay wings.

For me, after reflecting back on my week, it was as if God sent a note floating through the Heavens that said, "Here begins the path of letting go, time to give your little blue bird her wings."  I hope my dad gives God a nudge to go easy on me here, because as this little bird found it's wings and flew into the sky, my little bird is losing her downy feathers and replacing them with strong wings of blue, readying herself for what lies in the future beyond.  

This summer will mark a significant time that we spend together.  She will have many firsts packed into the next three months and the years to come and nothing I do will stop her from growing or time from ticking by.  What I pray is that God gives me pockets of time in which I can create concrete memories, strengthen her wings with loving arms, give her warm memories to allude to when life gets her feathers wet.    

Today, I begin a different kind of "letting go."  Though there is some sadness, it is wrought with joy, the joy of seeing your baby grow.  Our future will be dotted with new memories, as Barbies are slowly replaced with nail polish and makeup, scooters with cars, glitter with diamonds, our futures will be filled with new memories, those of graduations, first loves, universities, marriages. 

I have experienced the loss that is wrought with overwhelming grief and, though sad, the joy of seeing your little sprout growing into a beautiful flower is beyond measure.  So, I begin the memory chest, and as these years begin to pass I will add to it until it is full, as my heart is full and runs over with tears of joy.