Long apron strings

I am not perfect.  I have made so many mistakes in my life that counting them would be impossible, but my children are not one of them.

I like who they are, the adults they have grown into, and when they do something especially good I like to think I planted the seeds for it when they were still small.

Then there are the other things, the things I cannot believe they chose, or  do differently.  When this happens I search for the reasons.  What did I do, or not do that might have led to this?

I realize that their whole world does not revolve around me and my thoughts. I made choices both because and in spite of my mother.

Still, there is a tendency on my part to believe that a lot of who they are comes from what I taught them, so I cannot seek absolution just because they choose to do something I would prefer they not do now.

The hardest part of being a mother is letting go of those adorable babies who once sat on my lap and depended on me for everything, but their autonomy makes me proud.

I don't really want them tied to my apron strings forever, but I do wish I could reel them in for a hug a little more often.