Letting Go

I wonder how the innocense of a child can turn into something that was not put into that child by their parents, but by their surroundings...the influences of this life that come day by day. I remember at the age of 18, I thought I was all grown up and in control of my life. I remember the look on my dad's face as he sat in his worn out recliner by the front door watching me take my things one load at a time to the car. I could not even look at him. In my mind, I thought that he was full of rage for me and was trying to stare a hole right through my cast-down eyes. With every arm load that I passed by that chair, he never took his eyes off of me, and I never looked at him. I know now...now that I am "all grown up" that my views were a bit distorted. I can imagine now how my dad felt as his heart was being ripped out of his chest as he watched me leave, but letting me go. Letting me go to make my own mistakes, letting me go to discover that the world was a whole lot different than my young mind could ever comprehend. He could have tried to stop me, and it may have been pride that held him back. I wonder if he regrets letting me go without a fight. I know that one day my baby will be "all grown up", and I may have to go through that same heartache as he spreads his wings. I know the road that I traveled down, and we can only hope and pray that our kids don't make the same mistakes that we did, but life is not written in stone. It is new every morning, with new decisions to make everyday that build the path that we take. We can only help them with these first steps, steps that start out as wobbly little feet with hands holding on tight. Then next thing you know, they have let go and are standing on their own two feet without you helping them keep their balance, but they do know that when they do loose their footing they can grab a hold to you, and you'll steady them. I hope that my baby knows that years from now.