Letting Go

I remember reading somewhere years ago that the way to 'keep' your children, was to 'let them go'. I think I know what that meant, but then I don't think I've ever been a possessive or, I hope, overbearing parent. And I'd hope that I 'keep' my children because they're still fond of me or like me to some degree. I feel so lucky to have them - and I even had the boy I wanted first and the girl I wanted next, though I chose to avoid scans, so didn't know till they arrived.

And today I opened these cards that arrived yesterday - as it happens, blue from m'boy and pink from m'girl. They're both in London today - one lives there, the other is visiting friends there this weekend. They're right on the other side of the country from me, but just knowing they're there, enjoying life, fills me with pleasure. If they read this: thank you both for being such lovely people and making my life complete.

Meanwhile, here's a poem that I wrote over twenty years ago:

LETTING GO

Water like death
is a great leveller.
Brother and sister
ready on land
to bicker and tease
are on equal terms in the pool.
They give and take
love and respect;
are fish below the surface.

Their mother,
too long on dry land,
has evolved and lost scale.
The children are out of her depth.
She gave them their first swim
long before they breathed air,
feeding their primitive skill
in gentle darkness.
Water like birth
is a great divider.

poem © Celia Warren

Happy Mothering Sunday to all mothers and to everyone who's ever had a mother. Meanwhile, in my sixtieth year, I'm lucky to still have my own mother, whom I shall be seeing again shortly, and who is herself enjoying her own line-up of cards from her three children.

PS Just noticed that a year ago today I wrote the first of my chessmen series of poems - doesn't time fly!