heart strings

We were out for a walk like normal - an evening attempt at getting every last one of his wiggles out before bedtime. We came across a circular stage, elevated by just a couple steps wrapping around its perimeter. He asked to run the circle and I let him, standing on the side with Ezra in the stroller watching him go, watching him run away from me. But it was more than that. I wasn't just watching him go, I could feel it - tugging. He's attached to my heart with strings. They were pulling, like a rubber band. I could feel them stretching, getting thinner. How far can he run before they snap?

And not just literally. When he starts school. When he moves out of the house. When he gets married. Those strings are going to break, snap. And while one end is going to propel him further in the opposite direction, away from me, the other end is going to fly back and slap me. It's going to knock me over. And it's going to hurt like hell.

But maybe the joy of seeing him run, being pushed forward by the freedom of "no strings attached", will be enough to make me smile. Maybe. Or maybe it will just sting all the more, witnessing the fear that he doesn't need me the way he used to come to life.

But for now, he still needs me. For now, those strings are still attached. When he fell running on the other side of the circle, it was me he cried out for, pulling on those strings to bring us back together.

I hope he always knows that those strings have a home tied to my heart - that whenever he calls, I will come running. Whenever those strings snap and whatever causes them to snap... well, we're just going to have to learn to tie knots.