I think of parenting as an art…parents are artists without constraints…whose children are blank canvases on which to apply their paint.
We remember how we also started as a blank canvas…years ago…and thus…we paint ideals and morals and values on our children…as our parents painted them on to us.
Around the time we’re happy with the painting we have styled…other artists with their own paints and brushes begin to paint upon our child.
Aunts and uncles…friends and neighbors…some who might not even be aware…add a splash of color to the canvas…a line…a shadow…here and there.
As more and more people on our painting lend a hand…we notice it begins to change from the painting we had planned.
But as the painting slowly begins its subtle transformation…we appreciate the artistry of this new creation.
Then there comes a day…it happens fast…so often it seems to rush…when the child…no longer a child…now controls the brush.
We smile…remembering our own life…and stand to the side…with no complaint…reminding our child…when they need us…we will always be ready to paint.
Knowing most of our painting is over…and how we painted with our heart…we sit back and we smile…enjoying beauty of our art.
At the same time we’re appreciating the artwork…the beauty we helped create…with paint and brush at the ready…patiently…we wait…
For the next blank canvases to arrive…when we, with no constraints
will again pick up our brush…knowing we have grandchildren to paint!
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