Letting go

My baby girl turned a big  Eighteen over the weekend. It only seems like yesterday, she was a little three year old running and playing and wrapping her dad around her little finger. Feelings are mixed about whether it is a good thing or not. I suppose I’m just being selfish, not wanting my baby girl to step into adulthood. Why do we want to hold on them as children forever? There are far more good points, the most poignant being that she is healthy, strong and still studying hard, looking forward to her future. She is the youngest of my three beautiful daughters, as a little girl I remember saying to her to follow her two elder sisters, but not too closely so that she could avoid their pitfalls. She done that alright, now here she stands in front of us an adult.

Some people say that’s it, their job is done, once their child turns eighteen. For me, that’s the first part of the equation done, but it doesn’t stop there. I have heard elderly folk saying you never stop being there for your children. I look around me and see big grown ups, in their thirties, forties and fifties still living with their parents. There is no shame in that, I am one of those people who would be quite content if my children decided to stay at home after they became independent. At the same time I have to accept that they are individuals, with life ambitions of their own.

It feels like the first major point of letting go, and that’s the part that doesn’t feel so good. She will start University soon and then the time she spends at home will diminish. The dawning of a new era for her and us. We still have a few years before our son reaches the age, but those years keep on rolling. Somehow it will be easier to accept my son reaching the age, than it has been with my daughters and I suppose that’s only natural or is it?


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