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Learning to Let Go

I don’t think it is easy for anyone to let go of things. We believe what we believe and sometimes the emotions attached to those beliefs are so strong that we can’t see anything else but what we feel. I know that sounds very ambiguous, and maybe a bit more introspective than I would like to be, but it is still very true, nonetheless.

Mini me started first grade yesterday. It was a hard thing for me to allow her to ride the bus. I have walked her to the stop each day, taken her picture, and watched her get on the bus before leaving. It took everything I had in me not to follow the bus to school and make sure that she got to class alright, but I knew that I needed to hold back that much because I don’t want her to become so dependent on me that she can not think for herself. Still, in a world of Jaycee Dugards, I think it is important to be as vigilant as we possibly can.

It’s hard knowing when and where to let go. When we go to a new place or meet someone for the first time, Mini me is apprehensive, and clings to me as if she wants to hide under my skirts (if I wore those. LOL. I prefer jeans and tees). I don’t want her to be like that, because I know truthfully that is not her. She is a very confident young girl, who is extremely articulate for her age. Yet, I see her pacing herself, and restricting herself, and I wonder if maybe that is my fault.

Maybe I am too affectionate with her, maybe she is too dependent on my reassurance. Either way, I turned to the sources of my reassurance, my mother and my grandmother, and they both gave me the same granule of wisdom; learn to let go. Learn when to hold back, learn when to step back, learn when to be quiet, learn when to listen, learn when to watch, and learn when to let go of the hand that is holding yours.

When Mini me and I go out, we always hold hands. I think it is instinctive for the both of us. She reaches for my hand, and I reach for hers. It is just common for a me to want to hold her hand and for her to want to hold mine. Now, I don’t know if it’s me who needs my hand held more, or if it’s her. All I know, is that when I have it, I don’t want to let go.

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