The sands of time

My little boy, Michael, is growing up. Everyday I drive him to school and, until recently, he always wanted me to walk him to his classroom. Now, he is independent and he walks in on his own. As he walks away, he always turns back and waves goodbye with one plump starfish hand. It almost breaks my heart. The sands of time run on relentlessly and I am glad he is becoming independent but, I am losing my last baby. I paraphrased this feeling of conflicted loss and sadness in the last stanza of a poem I wrote entitled "It's a boy".

"In the end he’ll turn out right,
You’ll be proud, he’ll be so bright,
He’ll make you laugh, and then you’ll cry,
When out he moves with a cherry goodbye.

So beware,
A life journey has started!"