For My Girls: Children Are Like Kites, A Reprise

Kites

The day is bright, my wings are spread. Cool wind, stupendous view and I kiss the sky. I open my eyes. Only if I were a kite. - Anonymous

Time, before so concrete, has turned to sand and slipped through my fingers.

The harder I try to hold on to it, more fall through my hands.

I'm suddenly bone-weary, aware of the morning on my face, the wrinkles on the edge of my eyes, the age that hangs on me.

I used to love smelling perfumes at Smitty's with Second Daughter.

I enjoyed shopping with First Daughter at Ross and buying color pantyhose. I relished those mornings when I would rouse her out of bed with, Wake up, little bluebird.

I loved it when they sang Arky, Arky.

I looked forward to going to the General Store at camp where Second Daughter went straight to the gumball machine. Or when we all played Uno, mispronouncing card colors.

Now, the toys outgrown. Clothes cast off. Bedtime stories left untold, all abandoned in my wake as the girls had run over eagerly into the future, away from childhood, away from me.

Part of me wants to turn back the clock and take the hand of the girls and eat chee' cri' and boowo at the Mexican eatery and get ice cream and catch the frog burrowed in the sandbox in the backyard.

Part of me wants to encourage and uplift and cheer them on to take risks and live life and reach for the stars.

Part of me wants to make sure they remember to brush their teeth and put on a sweater (don't they think I know when they are cold?) and to not cross their eyes lest an ill wind cause them to be cross eyed forever.

Part of me wants to laugh.

Part of me wants to cry.

And all the parts are mixed up together and jumbled up in a hot mess.

Time has seemed to erase all.

Where did the magic go?

I look into my coffee cup as if the answer were in there. Indeed, I see me now as if I were looking at my Mum on graduation day.

I've realized how my children are like kites, and I'm the kite flyer letting them ride upon the breeze and go whichever way the wind blows.

Finally they are airborne...

I keep letting the string out.

But with each twist of the ball of twine,

there is a sadness that goes with joy.

The kite becomes more distant.

Now soaring as it is meant to soar.

Free and alone.

So, like my Mum, I finally let it go.

My Mother's Day wish for you:

That you always ride high

 Just like kites in the sky!

P.S. You yourselves have now become kite fliers. 

P.P.S. Attention, First Daughter: 

You're being asked to come to the aid of First Teen Kite.

Soon after executing a monster volley and arriving home, he has just issued an alert, Feed me. Hungry!

Also, First Granddaughter, her big eyes vigilant and her hair flying in the air, is excitedly mouthing, Qui! as she gives a thumbs up to her taking off soon on a new adventure at Punahou.

Same advisory to Second Daughter:

Watch out!

Baloney Second Granddaughter is kicking competition out of the ring to win yet her next karate belt. Ki-ai!