if you love something, let it go.
This one has a more personal touch; this was read at my dedication (similar to a christening or baptism) when I was a kid. My mom has a print of this framed on her desk ever since.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
- Kahlil Gibran, On Children
* * * * *
We're going out to see my parents and brother tonight; a typical night of pizza and card games (we're adorable, really). My parents just got back from Italy this week, and they had a rough flight back, so it will be good to see them. They have stories to tell, photos to share. I know they'll be telling stories and remembering for months, so this is just the tip of the iceberg. My father is an architect, and he's wanted to go to Italy for years upon years-- the cities, the architecture, the Italian hilltowns... He finally got to go. Next step is Mom's trip (more like a dream, really)-- Ireland, and following some of our family's roots. A few years, maybe. It's good for my parents to feel the wideness of the world, to wrap their arms around it. And then, again, to experience returning home, the closeness of our own lives. It'll be good to see them.
Saturday is another awards ceremony for work, of course. Things are different this time around, but a lot will stay the same. I'm helping out, as per usual, and to keep things from flying off the handle, which is good. I like feeling useful.
Then, for Sunday, we're hoping to go out and see Wes' folks for lunch; another visit, another smile. We check in with our families, keep in touch. We're never too far, really, which is the way we like it. Some things are too fragile and precious to just let go. And besides-- we have things to tentatively celebrate.
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
- Kahlil Gibran, On Children
* * * * *
We're going out to see my parents and brother tonight; a typical night of pizza and card games (we're adorable, really). My parents just got back from Italy this week, and they had a rough flight back, so it will be good to see them. They have stories to tell, photos to share. I know they'll be telling stories and remembering for months, so this is just the tip of the iceberg. My father is an architect, and he's wanted to go to Italy for years upon years-- the cities, the architecture, the Italian hilltowns... He finally got to go. Next step is Mom's trip (more like a dream, really)-- Ireland, and following some of our family's roots. A few years, maybe. It's good for my parents to feel the wideness of the world, to wrap their arms around it. And then, again, to experience returning home, the closeness of our own lives. It'll be good to see them.
Saturday is another awards ceremony for work, of course. Things are different this time around, but a lot will stay the same. I'm helping out, as per usual, and to keep things from flying off the handle, which is good. I like feeling useful.
Then, for Sunday, we're hoping to go out and see Wes' folks for lunch; another visit, another smile. We check in with our families, keep in touch. We're never too far, really, which is the way we like it. Some things are too fragile and precious to just let go. And besides-- we have things to tentatively celebrate.