Learning to let go

There are certain moments that parenting books don't prepare you for.

When you're a child, resentfully bucking under parental restraints, you think to yourself "I'm never going to be like this with my own kids!"

But when you're the parent confronted with similar situations, suddenly you GET IT. You realize what your own parents went through, the struggle between wanting to protect your child and keep them glued to your side, and learning to let go so your child can gain independence and self-confidence. There's such a fine line between the two that its so much easier for your own peace of mind to think to yourself, "My child just isn't ready yet, maybe when he's a bit older." Of course, this usually results in a power struggle between parent and child, the build-up of feelings of resentment and injustice on the child's part, and the parental guilt of knowing you need to let go and just trust but feeling unable to just yet.

Last week was Gunnar's grade five field trip, they were all going on a bike trip on the Red Deer bike paths. The parents were to drop off the bikes in the morning and obviously, pick them up at the end of the day. I had a discussion with Gunnar the night before, he was begging for me and Hubs to let him ride his bike home after school. Its a fair distance, all the way across town, but he's used to going on long bike trips with our family and we knew he could do it in less than half an hour. We knew that, rationally, but how do you convince your overprotective parental instincts that this is one of those moments to let go?

I showed up at the end of the school day to pick up both boys, fully intending to take Gunnar home with me (I hadn't given him a firm answer on the subject). He biked over to my vehicle with his best friend, also on a bike, and we chit-chatted for a bit (the school bell hadn't rung yet so they were just killing time). And Gunnar put the question to me, again, but this time in front of his friend. I KNOW how important it is to 'save face' in front of your friends at that age. I know that I have raised a boy with a good head on his shoulders, and that I can trust him to be safe and responsible. I also know that the world out there is not necessarily a safe place for lone children.

I must have had an agonized, indecisive look on my face because Gunnar said to me in all seriousness, "Mom, you know I'll obey the rules of the road, I'll come straight home. You can trust me."

And so... I let go.

It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make as a parent, and as I drove home all sorts of worst-case scenarios ran through my mind. But my boy arrived home safe and on time, full of feelings of self-pride and accomplishment, and I knew I'd made the right decision. It was a small step for him on his own path of self-discovery and independence, one of the first of many, I know. But it was a step for me as well, a painful and shaky step, towards that ultimate final step of watching my grown child go out into the world and create his own separate life.

To think I have to go through this over and over again with not just one child, but four!