Sunday, June 17, 2012

Holding Hands

Holding hands is a promise to one another that, for just a moment, the two of you won't have to face the world alone.


G(8) won't hold my hand in public any more.  Not when we're crossing a busy parking lot, not when we're looking for a seat in church, and most definitely not when we're anywhere near other kids.  I've spent the last 15 years holding the hand of a child in some capacity or another.  And in a few months  weeks, I'll have two new hands to hold.  But in the meantime, it's a strange, lonely feeling to reach out and not be met by the grip of a sweaty, sticky little hand.

Maybe he thinks he's ready to face the world alone.  I'm not sure sure I am.

G(8) getting his bunk set up at Cub Scout camp earlier today.  He already looks more grown up than I'm ready for.

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