Last week my first baby went away on a week long camping trip with one of my best friends. It was hard for me to let him go. At first I was trying to think of any silly, stupid reason to say "no"... but then I realized it was ME and not him that wasn't ready for this. He's almost 13. He's thoughtful and kind. He knows right from wrong and he really cares. He's a good kid. He'll be okay without me, maybe even more than okay. With remorse and amusement I realized it was time to start nudging him slowly out of the nest. (How did so many years pass so quickly?)
Now, anyone that knows me knows this doesn't mean what it might to some. Humans are blessed with more than a season to kick their little chicks out of the nest. I'm thankful for that. For me, it just means that it's time for him to be given some more responsibilities, to have a few more privileges, to be able to mature at a rate that I may not be ready for. It means he still needs me, but not quite so much, and as hard as that might be for me, I need to let him start practicing his flying techniques... slowly of course, but flying all the same.
At least he'll always be my Son-Shine!
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