Every now and then when I see someone flying a kite
made of paper, strings and wood…
I smile…remembering how flying a kite…is a lot like parenthood.
How you spend a lot of time running around
looking up…checking the sky…
trying to catch the wind…and help your children fly.
And how with each child you’re as proud as you were the child before…
when you finally watch them leave the ground…catch the wind…and soar.
Proud you helped them off the ground.
Proud you helped them spread their wings…
and secure at first as you watch them fly
because in your hands…you hold the string.
And as you watch them gain confidence…
as they sail across the sky…
you gradually…lovingly…let out more string…
and the higher and higher they fly.
Until you’ve let out so much string…and they are flying so high in the air…
no longer can you see them…but you’re certain they are there.
And there comes a day when you realize just how high they’ve flown…
that you cut the strings and smile…as they fly off on their own.
It is a little bitter sweet as you think of…not just what they gain…
but what you lose….
as they’re now free to ride…on whatever wind they choose.
You hope, wherever the wind takes them…
all those places so different, exciting and new….
that, every now and then the winds will guide them back to you.
Where you wait patiently to hear of their adventures…
all the joys and heartaches life on the wind will bring….
and where…if they ever need it…
you’ll be ready with more string.
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