This morning when we were getting ready to get out of the house, I experienced an interesting pause. I was combing Tara’s hair and held them in my hand as if I was going to make a ponytail. I even got a hair tie ready. And then I said, “let these hair feel the wind now and forever. Why should she tie her hair? Just because people have done that for generations. Let her hair run hay. Let her spirit be wild. Who am I to contain her. I am only here to nourish.”
And then I let them go. The silky bunch slipped through my hands. I wondered if she will also, one day, just this smoothly, slip into the world that will be hers, different from mine. I know the answer to that rhetoric. I know how this story ends.
Similar to how I slipped into this world, she will find her own world. Her own reality. I will be glad if she considers me worthy of being part of it. But if she doesn’t. I will remember that I gave her the wings to fly that far. I enabled those ambitions. I let her run wild.
And maybe then, I will feel content. I will feel like I played my part. I will feel complete.