They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
When a child is a newborn it is fairly easy to delude yourself into thinking that the above poem doesn't apply to you. You feel like you sarcrificed, you endured what you never dreamed you were capable of, you lost sleep, maybe you even lost your mind for a little while...but all the while you thought it was worth it because your baby, your son, that perfect little version of yourself and your love was yours forever. As time marches on, it is easier and easier to see the truth. As my son's 2nd birthday has just pased, I marvel that he is his own little man. He is smart, he is kind, he is a gentle soul, he is funny, he is sometimes wild, he is unique...but he's not mine. I'm his mother and I will love, encourage, and support him until my last breath and beyond. But he has his own thoughts and potential and ideas...that will likely continue to diverge from my own with each passing year. Regardless, being a mother and having a new soul come through you is a gift.
To my Hudson Aaron - Mommy loves you.
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