October 3, 2012
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Myra and Kendric, who've been in Montana since the seventeenth, rode horses up to Mollman Lake with Grandpa Rick today. I have to admit that I was fearful. I mean, I'm all the way over here, and certainly couldn't catch them were they to fall. (I maintain that the hardest part of parenting is NOT the late nights, the childish destruction, or even the endless laundry; it's the Letting Go. Realizing that even when I'm "right there," their lives are being sustained by God, and not by my efforts -- however fervent.) Myra kindly phoned this evening to let me know they'd made it home safely, and I'm looking forward to seeing the pictures she took.
We're expecting cold weather, so I sent Mari out to pick the plums from our tree. Bri made plum cobbler for dinner. Y-U-M.
Bri: "If we could still go swimming, fall would be my favorite." I don't know. If we could still eat plum cobbler (and soup), I might like summer best.
Comments (1)
The letting go is hard. But you have to so they can spread their wings and learn to fly. It is pretty cool though, cuz when you do let go it gives them permission to fly back home again
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