From the moment they are conceived, the process of letting go of our children begins. Even in the womb, they are not our possessions but rather our guests. The first kicks excite you. Then you try and have someone else feel the baby and he doesn't move. “I am not yours,” his silence reminds you. But how can you really let go of someone who has lived inside your body—shared your breath, your blood, your ice cream?

A newly born child depends on you completely. He only knows you. You are his universe. He does not know his body, only yours. At first, he does not know he is separate from you. Then he looks around and realizes there is something beyond your arms, your breast, and your voice. Soon you are no longer enough. He struggles to know the outside, the others. He finds his toes, learns to crawl, and starts to walk.

At a public park one day, I saw a young couple with their first child, a boy about 15 months old. He was just learning to walk and kept barreling away. The mother said to the father, ”Boy, he's sure becoming willful.” While he had become a toddler, his parents were still seeing the infant he had been. I smiled to myself. This was only one step. There would be so many more lessons in letting go.

At what age are our children old enough to pierce their ears, dye their hair, take the bus to the baseball game? How do we let go of our dreams of who our child will be? When our strong sons want to be actors, not athletes? When our darling daughters want only to get married, not become doctors?

I know several parents of teenagers wrestling with the issue of drug testing their children. Most felt it was the only way they could trust their kids not to do drugs. But no test will help them loosen their grip on their teenagers as they face adulthood.

With babies it's easy to hold on. You have to keep them from running into the street. But how we let go of our toddlers will help us learn how to let go of our teens. It's often easier to step in and bail our kids out than it is to watch them struggle and fall. We can feel like a bad parent when our five year old goes to school with bruises and scrapes from learning to ride a bike. What if someone suspects abuse? It's difficult not to feel judged when someone makes a comment on our child's choice of clothes, of hair, of friends.

Is this the big lesson of parenthood - learning to love without smothering, learning to set boundaries and hold them, learning to provide a safe and nurturing space but not take responsibility for our children's emotional experiences? Perhaps it is our job as parents to be a harbor for our children, to be the safe refuge in all kinds of weather so our toddlers and teens can always come home. It is our responsibility to hold securely the rope that connects the ship to the pier, however long that rope may be. In the beginning the rope doesn't seem necessary, the boat is small enough to sit on the deck but soon enough the little rowboat becomes an ocean liner ready to explore the high seas.

How can you ever really let go of your child? You can't. I can't. But I can hold the rope between us with courage, love and joy.

Copyright © 2001 Anna Stewart. All rights reserved worldwide.