Roots and wings, bah!

Mother was right. You never know the agony that children can give you until you have some of your own. And I do. Have two children, I mean, a boy and a girl. Of course, they are no longer the cherubic tykes I look at on my bureau and bedroom wall every day. Gee, I remember hanging over their respective cribs when they were tiny, awed at every tentative breath. I became acutely aware of both the fragility and the resilience of this earthly existence in those moments. Now, they have flown off to become who they were meant to be. And for me, not much has changed. I still chew my lip over their various escapades, and mourn when they are hurting. I would like them to just stay where I put them until I come back again to visit. Alas, neither one is willing to do that for me. And yesterday, kiddo number two, the redheaded dervish that is my daughter, was on airplanes for the whole freaking day, winging her way to Egypt. That's on the freaking other side of the world! And I talked to HP all day, just keep her safe, please! I mean, I felt responsible for holding those planes up all by myself. It was exhausting. She and her darling fiance arrived just fine, and probably would have even if I had not been all twisted up. So I got out this picture of me, sweet little angel that I was, and am remembering the self-inflicted perils I have survived in my 7 decades of life on the Big Blue Ball, and decided to LIGHTEN UP. I know my kids. They are never going to stand still. Life is, after all, a moving target.