Lengthening the Apron Strings

A while back I was chatting with some other moms at work and we got to discussing teaching our kids responsibility and independence.  It was a timely conversation because just a few short days before my husband and I were talking about this and how and when would be appropriate to encourage further independence for our daughter.  I was very uncomfortable to the point of being somewhat resistant to the conversation. But sensing how deeply he felt about the topic at hand, I tried to engage with an open heart and mind our conversation.

It was as I was talking with this group of moms that I discovered the source of my resistance.  As is often the case when chatting about parenting, I said what I often do “with C growing up as an only child…..” That was when the light went on.  C is my only living child, and as such I recognize that I tend to be much more protective of her. What I had not realized was how deeply rooted and emotional that protection went. The idea of soon having her make her own breakfast or take responsibility for getting herself up with an alarm clock in the morning shakes my soul.  It is a removal of just a few more things that I have gotten used to doing for “my baby.” It is one more reminder that my baby is growing up.

In the shadows of this it is also a reminder of the fact that there is only one child I got to do these things for. There are no more little ones after her for me to continue doing these tasks. But there was supposed to be another one and grief becomes two-fold once more.  This is what makes it so hard for me to keep “lengthening the apron strings” and giving more independence to my child.  With each new set of tasks of independence and responsibility come with it another round of grief over “my baby” growing up. It is one more thing that this very protective momma has to let go of. It is yet a reminder that this is the last time I may get to do this at all, because the one that was to come next, never got to live.

And so it is in this tension of knowing I need to let the “apron strings” get a bit longer, let my precious not so little one gain more independence and the simple fact that my heart does not want to to it.  I want to keep her close, where I can protect her because the thought of anything happening to her, my only living child, is just more than my heart can handle.

It is in this space of tension that I am grateful for my husband who pushes me and is her champion for more independence and forces me to face myself and let go a bit more. It is in this space that God and I do a lot of talking and I tug on God’s apron strings just bit harder asking to be gathered in closer. 

It is in the nearness of my image of a parent God, who also had to let the child Jesus go into our world, that I find my comfort and strength to do what I know is right in giving more independence and responsibility. It is in the gathering into God’s presence that I find the courage to face again my two-fold grief and rage about how unfair it is that I have to do this. After my tears are spent and the snuffling breaths turn into deeper more sustaining breaths, I know what I must do and I venture back into my world of living and grieving that are all wrapped up into one. I also know that this will not be the last time that I find myself at this crossroad and that each time I will have the strength of faith to give my precious one wings to fly.