You want to test your wings
And it tugs at my heart strings.
Just the other day it seems you were so small
I could hold you in one arm.
Yet today you reach my shoulder.

It’s so hard, letting go….
Yet it’s my job. A little at a time to boost your ego.
First it was your bike. It gave you wheels,
Then you wanted freedom. All I could bear to give you
Was the block we live on – afraid of the major streets, the cars
What would happen if you got hurt and I didn’t know where you were?
But I had to let you go, and my heart raced with joy the first time you
Returned.

You will be eleven soon
A young man of not so many years, yet I can see
That you will have the ladies swarming around you as you get older.
You are smart, with bedroom eyes of slate grey and a quick warm smile.
And you have an old, nurturing soul within you.

It’s so hard letting go, learning how to back off just enough to give you the room
You need without leaving you floundering.
Yet it’s my job. In retrospect, after this short time,
I think I’m doing it rather better than I expected.

I love you Paddy.
You will always be my “best bud”

“Gummie”