They say that you are supposed to start letting go now.
I think about the chubby hands cinched around my little finger, the reason I stopped wearing earrings for years, the hands always wanting some part of me to grab on to.
I remember the girl who shook free in the parking lot because she couldn't tell me a story without the swinging of her hands. As essential as words.
The boy who sat for 30 + hours in my lap on the plane, turning my white hands over and over in his precious brown and pink ones.
The boy whom I don't challenge to arm wrestle anymore. The girl who makes me breakfast with hands that used to shape playdough.
But I don't want them to let go, so I'm the one reaching for some part to grab on to.
They slip free but they don't go too far. They still joke about marrying mommy or daddy and never leaving home but I know, I know. They will slip out of reach and be a voice on the other end of a long distance call or, blast-it-all, a text or an email or whatever the techno-geeks think of next.
I'll be thankful. But I won't let go.
{This post is part of Lisa-Jo's Five Minute Friday - a fun writing exercise where you frustrate perfectionism and just go with it. Today's writing prompt is: GRASP. You should join us!}
