Monday March 24th, 2008
A field full of dandelions, white and puffy, are a little girl’s dream.
When we were small, my sister and I would race through the front yard, competing to pick the most dandelion flowers. We’d grab them, then roll around in the summer evening grass and blow the feathery white pieces out into the air. It was as if we, in the powerlessness of childhood, were trying to give something of ourselves away.
On my run this morning in the grey, before the yellow of the sun popped up over the hills, I saw a dandelion by the side of the road. I often pick things up on my runs for my older daughter, small, pretty rocks, a bright flower or an autumn leaf.
As a compulsion left over from my front lawn dashes, I wanted to pick the dandelion. And I
wanted to pick it for her. I wanted her to feel the brief respite from childhood impotence that I had felt. I wanted her to be able to blow the dandelion and watch the spores float away in the morning air.
wanted to pick it for her. I wanted her to feel the brief respite from childhood impotence that I had felt. I wanted her to be able to blow the dandelion and watch the spores float away in the morning air.
I paused, but I realized that I still had about 2 miles left before I would reach my house. If I picked it for her the white puffs would be gone by the time I got home.
I think I am going to have to let her pick her own dandelions. There are things I can point her toward, but cannot do for her. She will have to think of her own dreams and let her own feathery puffs float on the wind. I can help her, but the only thing that defeats the powerlessness of childhood is actually growing up.
Beautifully written as always. I love how some of life’s most poignant lessons come from simplicity.
You wrote that so lovingly and beautiful. Love the picture!
It is hard to let them do it for themselves. I often worry they will get hurt or miss out or suffer some horrible hurt that can’t be mended. But, that is the wonder and tragedy of life. I simply need to be available to guide them, help them pick up pieces when they fall, brush them off and help them find the next “Dandelion”.
I love you sweet Sarah.
It is sometimes hard to let them do things on their own – especially as they get older and need to make those choices. They NEED to do it, as hard as it is when you know they may get hurt (physically and/or emotionally) it is part of growing up and learning. They will learn from those experiences more than from what I say to them.
Thanks for the beautiful reminder!
what a thoughtful mommy you are.
i would have picked the dandelion and made a wish myself- after all i still have dreams (i tend to forget that). i want to see the feathery white pieces float away with my 34 yr old dreams on them, and have that child like faith that that anything is possible.
Wow. That was incredibly moving. And your sweet hubby loves you so much.
My daughter used to call those dandelions “wishes.” I don’t know if she still does. I’ll have to pay close attention and see.
“If I picked it for her the white puffs would be gone by the time I got home.” Completely beautiful
brilliant…. we don’t have kids, but i think my heart will flip inside out if we do become parents and watch them – LET them – grow up.
wow.
oh how this resonates in me….thank you for putting it into such beautiful words!