Last night I found my oldest son on Facebook. It was an eerie feeling knowing we are once again not communicating and how much I miss him. My shortcomings as a parent have become his focus and it hurts to much to hear this sort of thing over and over. Still he was my favorite when he was a boy and I miss him terribly. This evening I received this from someone who has experienced some of the same things. I thought I’d post it for all of us. There are no guarantees in this life. Our children are our own for but a moment. They may choose to fly away and never return.
Remember Kahlil Gibran’s words
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.