It was windy.
Well, at least in strong wind gusts that can only be found in March, when the grass is an awful shade of brown, and the spring winds are blowing out the remnants of winter. The wind came and went. With each gust, Brennan and I would work, would work together, to launch his kite.
We tried.
For almost an hour, on the unseasonably warm, but typically windy, day in mid-March to launch that kite. We’d get it up, and it would wobble and I’d try to steer it from trees, but then it would fall. We’d pick it up, and we’d cheer each other on, and we’d try again.
And again. We’d brush that brown grass, leftover from last year, off and throw that kite in the air each time hoping for that gust of wind that would send it soaring. Time and time again he’d throw the kite in the air. And time and time again, I’d stand there, untangling the string {which was way too short} or winding the string or running with him. We were a team.
I looked at Brennan. At his eagerness, and excitement, and joy as we worked to launch that kite. And I thought, I pondered how kite flying is so much like motherhood. We work and work and work with our children, preparing them, teaching them, training them to fly. And in those years, they stumble, they fall, they need us behind the scenes helping them out, they need us in the background setting things, preparing things for them. Working together. Believing in them. Being active in their lives.
We share their joys, their wonder, their excitement about the world. Their spirit, the unjaded spirit of childhood, is a balm for our adult hearts.
As we teach them they teach us.
They teach us about determination. Wonder, joy, exuberance, tenacity, and loving the moment. They teach us to try again and again and again. As we bless them with us they bless us with them.
Then one day, one day that happens all too fast, they are grown.
They can fly.
And we walked the journey with them. A day, a step, a learn to walk, a scraped knee, a math test, a driver’s license, a learn to read, a fall down, a win the race, and a learn to fly, a day at a time. We’ve helped them soar.
Let’s go fly a kite….and send it soaring…
That’s exactly what we do.
5 comments
What a beautiful and timely analogy! My kids are all grown, out there soaring on their own. I still want to tug the string and pull them in close from time to time – I don’t think that urge ever goes away. It’s called “Mother Love”…..
the thing i remember most about my dad is flying kites together. this is such a sweet post to me. : )
That looks like an incredibly fun workout! I love the pictures and the smiles. Beautiful!
Beautiful!
Abigail
abigailandherfamily@blogspot.com
Beautifully written…and today it was also windy where I was at too…a beautiful cold, slightly warm wind. It feels like it might rain soon 🙂 🙂 Love and hugs from the ocean shores of CAlifornia, Heather 🙂