This morning, my daughter when on her very first outing without me, an adventure with "the girls" to have her toenails painted and then have lunch. Our next door neighbor, who I adore, took my little one, along with her own daughter and niece to the salon and then to the restaurant as part of a belated gift to her niece. Said niece really wanted to do something with just the two other girls, which I thought was sweet. Little one and I both had our moments of hesitation and sadness this morning. I'm not sure why that first separation is so difficult, but it was. My baby was going someplace fun and I wasn't going to get to see her enjoying it! The great thing about being a parent, however, is that we tend to instinctively know what's good for our children and to walk in that direction with them even when it means experiencing a little sadness on our part. When I say sadness, I don't refer to sadness as much as nostalgia. Our children pass through so many stages on their way to adulthood, each period arriving with its own unique sweetness and exiting with its own distinct bittersweet flavor. Ultimately, we nurture our kids so that they can learn how to fly on their own, even though every single stage of letting is accompanied by a pinprick (and sometimes a knife stab) to the soul. These wounds heal over quickly, of course, since in the deepest part of our hearts we long to see our children dance their dreams freely, to move forward with confidence in their own abilities and little fear, to come back to us with wonderful stories about the journeys they've taken and the sights they've seen. And how did I spend the day, you ask??? First, I rushed to the post office to buy some stamps and mail off some bills which threatened to be late if left on the kitchen counter for one more day. Then, I came home and threw laundry into the washing machine. Then, finally, I settled down at the drawing table and began working once more on my latest (first, actually) Goddess piece. A few hours later, my soul feels just a bit more satiated, the artist within me a step happier. For an artist, creating is necessary in order for one to maintain sanity, but when we have children those creative times often are relegated to crafts with the little ones. While this is fun and satisfying in its own right, working on solitary projects is important as well. In fact, doing so is probably even more vital when one becomes a parent, since during the younger years it's easy to lose sight of who we are as individuals as we become more focused on our families and on the other important events that are swirling around us in a day to day tornado.
And so, with the day's sadness came more than a measure of deep joy. There was joy in greeting my beautiful one at the door when she came knocking with her friend, ready to show me her pretty, newly painted pink toenails. There was joy in the fact that she is secure enough in us as parents and in herself as a little person to have gone somewhere without me and had a rollicking good time. And, there was joy in the spirit quenching serenity of creating, of being able to actually be an artist today, instead of just claiming to be one.
