That's my dad's mother, wrapping her boy in a blanket on Lake Minnetonka when he was only three.
And then, when he was only 17 and technically underage, she had to let him go to follow the winds of World War II...
We mothers- we love our children, fold them deep inside our hearts and then must watch as they walk away into the big, wide world.
One day my boys will hold their own children, watch out for them, and love them only to be left behind as they spread wing and soar off into the big wide world. It is perhaps some small comfort to know that for generations we parents have all done this. I would like to think that were there some way to watch over these succeeding generations, I could be there, watching over the little ones who will follow me and mine.
Or maybe, and this is quite probably the truth, I am just sleep deprived and sentimental.
Like I said earlier this week...Tomorrow's a new day. Tomorrow I can create any world I want and jump full force into it. It's time.
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