Time does Fly

The metaphors of life often speak more clearly to the realities of our lives than we realize.

"Time Flies" comes to mind. I watch daily as my once little girl transforms into a more mature, independent, and individual person; one who seeks to define her identity not as my daughter so much as by who she as a burgeoning young lady is. Today PinF was offered as concrete an example of this fact as one can get. "Time" literally flew, as we walked through the airport where my daughter and I have walked literally dozens of times, hand-in-hand as we embarked on our many trips to my town, Philly. Her dimunitive smooth hand curled in my much larger one, full of wonder, questions and excitement.

Difference today was that my little girl no longer holds her daddy's hand, and she no longer looks like a "little girl". Today as her mother and I looked on in melancholic disbelief we watched as our once little girl walked down the rampway of her own flight; both of us recognizing that time has indeed "flown". And then she was gone; flying alone for the first time in her eleven years to Philadelphia. A truer metaphor I couldn't imagine. Time flew right out of our lives. Her mother dabbing tears, Sophia nervously excited to go, and me in a kind of stunned pride at her confidence and poise.

Sad as I was to see her go, I was equally proud of the young lady she's become. I could hardly imagine at age eleven having either the luxury or confidence to fly on my own. But this is what life really is; we're training our children everyday to be independent, confident, and unafraid to accept new challenges--and instead-- facing their fears, and taking those steps even when they may be uncertain. I'd be lying if I said it didn't have that familiar "first day of school goodbye" feel to it. It was hard, but it's also very necessary in the development and education of a complete person.

Sophia is nothing if not confident; and so now she's off and I'm left with a strange feeling of void right now, something I'll most likely have until my mother calls from the other end and lets me know she's received my precious cargo. But what a great feeling to have a child who wants to strike out on her own and fly to see your mother, her grandmother? She'll be spending days of such quality and joy with her grandmother that I'm pressed to imagine how I couldn't have let her go.

So there it is. The son leaves his mother only to have his daughter leave him. The symbiotic balance is found in the continuative cycle of life and love. My daughter is with my mother for a whole week of exploration, learning, and fun in the "big city". I couldn't think of more fulfilling memory for Sophia when she's older than this experience of learning more about the wonderful mother that made me the competent father I am.

I told Sophia what my father once told me as I boarded a flight "don't forget where you came from". Because in life it's never really "where" you are or even where you're going so much as it is where you've come from and all -that's gone into making you who you are.

Time flew today; metaphorically, and literally--and with it, so too did my daughter. Luckily she's flying in the right direction in life as in destination.