Seven years ago I walked my first little boy into a kindergarten classroom and a string was cut. Last year I walked my last little boy into another kindergarten classroom and yet another string was cut. Somewhere in between those two, strings were cut for each of my other two boys as well. Year after year they get older, despite something inside me screaming “Why do you have to grow up?” I know this is what I should want, what I am raising them to become, but each time a new string is cut my heart aches a little more.
Their first steps, when they learned to swim, to run, to ride a bike. Each milestone takes them further away from me and closer to being on their own. And then I think. Am I doing this right? I try, but is it enough? Who knows. They don’t come with instructions. All we can do is our best and pray that they end up happy.
This morning as I was getting the boys ready for their first day of school, I cut the strings that were holding their brand new shoes together, and with each cut of a string another tear fell.
Have you cut any strings lately?