Letting Go

After discussing the fact that our son was going to be leaving for West Point, my oncologist recommended that we read a book called Letting Go. I ordered a used copy and it is presently sitting on a shelf across the room from where I sit now. When I put it on the shelf, I laughed and told myself that I would not struggle with letting go.

It is the day before Reception Day. At 8:30 tomorrow morning, we will say goodbye to our son for the summer. And I am struggling with letting go.

I know, as best as we can know, that our son has made the right choice in going to West Point. I know that he is prepared - spiritually, emotionally, physically, academically. I know that he is ready to be tested. But I am struggling with letting go.

Most, if not all, dads have struggled with this same issue, I would guess.

I picture a mother bird pushing its young out of the nest. It is the only way that they will learn to fly. It's not that my son needs a push, but I need to push so that he can fly on his own. So that he can become the man that God has designed him to be.

I am holding back the tears now. Maybe its the lack of sleep. Our son decided to have one of his late-night discussions with us until the early morning hours. Maybe its the decreasing blood counts that follow chemotherapy. Maybe its the splitting headache I have. Or maybe its just the normal response of a dad who loves his son and is going to miss him.

I was kidding myself about letting go. Letting go is difficult. But letting go is necessary.