That's R, taking the lead on a bike ride with Mr. K. I remember the rush of getting sufficient distance between myself and my family to feel like I was "doing it all by myself" (although, really... are we ever doing anything all by ourselves?) I'm glad I had no idea how it felt for my parents to watch me go out of sight.
Lately R and A have been walking to school all by themselves. Granted, it's a short walk, down what has to be the quietest, calmest dead-end street in town, then along a great little path heavily populated by other kids walking to school. I don't really want to let them walk alone (and some days, I don't) but I also don't want them to think I don't think they're capable of it. They're so kind to each other, holding hands for the first 50 yards or so until they realize they're doing it, and they stay together the entire way (because yes, I have spied on them the entire way a time or two). I'm always fine until they walk out of sight and then I get a little lump in my throat... and then I remember how great it felt to know that I was "doing it by myself" and then I smile for them.
C is contemplating taking a fantastic spring break trip that will very much force/allow her to take a many-mile journey into independence and although I have (and will continue to have, until 6 months from now when I pick her up from the airport and hug her like the embarrassing mom I am) a huge lump in my throat about her taking this great big step, I'm also wildly proud of her. She doesn't do anything (at all) without contemplating the possible outcomes and I'm sure she's thought about the "what ifs" more than I have... and she still wants to go. The girl's got guts.
It's hard to know when to hold on tighter and when to give them a little push in the opposite direction but I do know that parenthood is a long process that involves far more letting go than it does holding on.
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