The Beauty and Pain of Letting Go
|"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." ~Rajneesh caption|
Every time I look into my daughter’s eyes I am mesmerized. The beauty of her hurts, sometimes.
And when she holds my gaze for more than a moment, my breath catches because she looks back so intently. There is more going on inside her than I ever imagined- so many lifetimes in that pristine 11-month-old body, in those deep blue eyes. My child is wise.
I try not to be needy for her to look at me constantly- though I would be happy doing so all day long. I try not to crave her affection- I can ask for a kiss ten times but she doles them out at her own particular discretion.
Almost one year since I gave birth to this precious little person- and she astounds me at least daily. If I could start all over again with her, I would. In a second. This year has gone by twice as fast as any year before and I’m left with a beautiful, headstrong, intelligent little girl. My baby, rapidly being phased out by a toddler. I don’t want to blink because she will be a teenager.
Since her first days on Earth I have found that being a parent is a grueling lesson in letting go. Something I keep reminding myself when I’m so hungry for her attention. Someday I am going to have to launch her into this incredibly mixed-up, crazy world and keep my fingers crossed that I provided enough guidance and tools for her to thrive.
It has been a long, long time since I looked forward to each day like I do now, and I will savor it.