Growing up, and older is about detachment
Easier said than done though
The patter of your baby’s first steps
The unabashed pleasure at the toddler’s antics
The acoustics of teenage chatter
Being symphony to your ears
Replaced and refreshed now
Balanced with the sounds, sights and smells
Of the broader world, a world not as narrow
Such that your children
Are now an extension of your ecosystem
Rather than the center of it
It is a freedom of sorts
Freedom from many compelling obsessions
That is every mother’s woe and pride
Of wanting to be present in and make note of every milestone
Or what you assumed were global events at that time
the eyeball move
the baby bum lift
the first step
the changing smell of the potty
the pa’s and the ba’s
the smile or what you thought was one
the sticky first kiss
the sloppy attempt at poetry
the colors and form that became the art work
the handclasp and the finger grasp
the voice breaking at puberty
the announcement of the first period
the prom preparation
the first tie knot
the drama and the debates
Waking up one morning
Looking into the mirror
I see
Two clumsy adults
out there owning the world
Conquering, defeating, being beaten, wondering, doubting, loving and discovering
The transition has occurred and is happening now
The pleasure is immense
And as I turn away from the mirror
Gently patting my eyes
Just so the kajal stays in place
I know
I received these human’s as gifts
To hold and deliver into the world
Playing my brushstrokes
and filling in the colors over the years
That was how it was always meant to be
I was told very clearly that birthing, mothering is not about replacing
Yet I do want to ask
Can I hold you, carry you, kiss you, hug you
One more time so I can bottle that smell, that warmth, the tender smile
I promise not to ask again
I promise to be standing right here when and if you need me
As well for those you bring into your lives
Also
Neatly bottled for you and those you love
Will be the alchemy that works when all else fails
In an inexhaustible supply, and from that irreplicable recipe
my confidence, care, and courage
my bones, my flesh, my blood
Kashiana 
very deep ,touching and true-emotions – mothers feelings–growing up phases of Children -their new ties- new relationship -accepted by a mother with unique resignation- -the renunciation to let them fly out -but what about the sweet pain emerging out of this Renunciation? ! To portray emotions in words is rather difficult -beautifully expressed Love -Blessings Papa
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