I have long thought of my children as a part of me, an extension of me-my husband-my parents-our upbringing-our beliefs-their friends–where we live-their hobbies and interests-but always a part of me. While they head off to school each morning, then to their activities and other outings , I have long felt they were an integral part of who I am. As they are growing older, I am becoming more aware of them choosing what to claim as their own.
This becomes abundantly clear as I peruse the daily online camp photos, searching for pictures of them in new activities, giggling with people I do not know, and involved in camp rituals of which I will never be a part. I miss their laughing faces, I yearn to know what they are becoming as they test the waters (literally) around them.
It becomes a more separate life, as our children grow and reach and develop into who they will become, as we did. They will have their private codes, things hidden from me, secrets they keep from their friends, and thoughts they will even hide from themselves.
I realize that I can only guide them on their journey as they create new paths, follow some already lain, get lost and hopefully found, in a quest to Be. May the voyages never end; I am still searching and wandering my own paths, not knowing where they will lead. Camp is a short stop in their trek, but one where they will hopefully learn to fend without their parents and usual cohorts. C