The ice rink had been the scene of so many happy memories for a mom. Taking her daughter by the hand, she attempted to teach her how to soar around the ice. But they banged into each other, tripped each other, and were failing altogether. The daughter shook off the mom’s hand and tried to skate. She fell. The mom rushed to help her up and the daughter pushed her away. The mom told her to hold the guard rail. The daughter refused. On her feet again, in a heap on the ice, on her feet, sprawled on the ice, up again and again. By the time they left a couple hours later, the daughter was bruised and sore, but grinning delightedly. She could ice skate! She had learned how! She loved the freedom of sailing around that rink as much as her mother did.
This is a picture of the process of letting go.
I think the first time I realized I had to ‘let go’ of my baby was when he was safely tucked into his bassinet and I had to ‘let go’ of my watchful guard of him and surrender to sleep. You see, when we sleep, we are no longer in control. We are no longer able to watch and prevent disaster. I knew the risk was small that anything sinister could happen to him, but I had to ‘let go.’