Letting Go

She can do it, you know. 

One day, she just decided she could do it. 

And she let go. 

Unsteady. Uncertain. But determined.

My baby girl, my little lady, set her mind to it. 

And. 

After weeks of a few steps here, a few steps there, she let go. And walked across the room.

They were uncertain steps. Wobbly steps. But they were steps all the same. Steps she took after letting go. 

My baby. She let go. 

She does it still. Every day.

A few steps here. A few steps there. 

Some days many. Some days few. 

Always, she looks to me to see if I am watching.

Always, she is most confident when holding on. But her self-confidence is growing. And soon, she won't need my hand at all. 

Once and for all, she'll let go.

And that's okay. Because I'll still always be there. Always watching. Always waiting. Always cheering. Always ready to offer my hand. 

Because even when she is ready to let go, I know I'll always hold on, even if just a little. 'Cause she's got my heart. And there's no letting go of that.