Letting Go

Mom, can you help me?

What it is that is being asked?
Is it “Mom. I’m not sure how to do this?”
Or “Mom, can you do this for me?”
Or possibly, “Mom, I’m not ready to be the big kid and still want some reassurance that you are still available for the hard stuff.”

So when Beernut approached me in the Chadar Ocheil (dining hall) with “Mom, can you help me?”, I panicked. Which question was he really asking.

“Nope,” I said, wondering how he would respond.
“OK.” And he walked off.

I presume that either he found the answer on his own or he suckered someone else into completing the task. Either way, I was not the middle man.

The process of growing up involves a great deal of growing away. Away from one’s parents and away from the safety of childhood. Sometimes, one can actually feel the tugging as the child pulls away. Unlike the more rapid process of leaving an actual nest, human development happens in fits and starts. Which is a good thing because it would be much more painful of a separation for both mother and child if it happened any more quickly.

Every once in a while, I remember that the main goal of parenting is to help our children grow and develop and leave us. And then I push that thought away so that I don’t cling protectively to my children. And then I sigh.