And a little, I let go...
- Jessica Urlichs
- Jul 7, 2022
- 2 min read
Updated: Aug 20, 2022
When I first met my son I had known him a moment and loved him a lifetime. I held him to my chest for as long as I could, but he had to be taken away shortly after. The start of sharing my heart with the world, and a little, I let go.
When I moved my son from our room into his own, I smiled at the thought of having our room back, yet I ached at his cot no longer in the window, and a little, I let go.
When My husband and I went on our first child free date, I couldn’t wait to have some ‘us’ time again. I left a list and my brain back at home with thoughts of him for the remainder of the evening, and a little, I let go.
When I dropped my son off to daycare for the first time I thought of all the things I could finally get done that day. I sat in the car outside for the longest time, a cave of sadness, the stories that would become his own. No longer on my hip and yet I felt heavier, and a little, I let go.
When I turned his night light off and said goodnight, I stood in his doorway expecting a small protest, it didn't come. Part of me felt relief, and the unexpected part of me felt nostalgia for all the times he asked me to stay, and a little, I let go.
And soon there will be school, at the recent open day I stood there among a sea of little summer faces in winter and my eyes started filling up. The usual pre warning of a mild sting didn’t come, I just started crying, I was that Mum.
When I look into his eyes, all oceans and daybreak, I know it’s not the letting go that saddens me… I can’t wait to watch him grow. It’s all the things that don’t announce their departure, it’s the push and pull of it all, the sparkle he has, the one I won’t always be there to help him find should he lose it.
Please don’t lose it.
But we have to step back so they can step in. We have to let pieces of ourselves go with it.
As mothers we’re faced with this daily task, and we’re strong enough to see it through, we are. But we were never designed to master it.
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Raising children into young adulthood is a bittersweet journey of holding hands tightly while constantly learning to step back. Reading this poem strikes a deep chord as a father who has watched his own children transition through school years so rapidly. When you stop to ask what is 30 days from now in the grand timeline of parenting, you realize that every small milestone of independence is worth celebrating with patience and love.
Watching your child walk through the school gates on their very first day brings a tender mix of pride and quiet heartache that every parent knows deeply. As a father of grown children, I still vividly recall holding that small hand and realizing how fast time moves. Balancing school schedules, homework routines, and foundational learning feel like a new chapter in alicia matematicas where life teaches us the art of letting go step by step. Thank you for putting those bittersweet parenting emotions into such beautiful, heartfelt poetry.
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The moment I first saw my son, everything changed in an instant. It’s amazing how you can know Tree trimming Inverness someone for only a heartbeat and yet feel like you’ve loved them forever. That kind of love doesn’t grow slowly it arrives all at once, full and overwhelming.
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