Letting go.

Letting go can be so freaking difficult.

I seem to have an unnatural instinct that compels me to hold on, to preserve, to maintain. I don't let go of anything very well.

I try to let go gracefully, but I rarely let go easily....

Today my youngest child went to preschool for the very first time. As I watched her leave, I smiled and waved and blew kisses; but inside my guts were knotted as I was forced to accept that my baby was moving further away from me and transitioning into the world at large.

It's a natural thing to venture beyond the influence of one's mother. It's healthy to seek the experiences that lie beyond a mother's reach. I know this to be true. I even celebrate this truth; but part of me mourns as well.

Like I said, I don't let go very easily. It's hard to let go gracefully; but I must. The alternative would be to smother the child that I love so profoundly.

So with a knotted gut and firm resolve, I do what every mother must eventually do.

I let her go.