On becoming obsolete

In all that I do

One day the Foolsletter will end.

No plans for that for the near, or distant future.

And?

I’m going to die and this blog will go with me.

I don’t have plans to pass this along for someone else to continue.

This is for us to share while I’m here.

Other things?

Hopefully, they’ll outlive me.

My children are the first that come to mind.

My job is to get them ready to launch into the world.

My job is to make myself obsolete in my life.

When my daughter was really young, I mostly stayed at home.

I took her places in a stroller.

I fed her,

I kept her safe from the ravages of Toronto traffic.

Together?

We crossed a lot of busy and dangerous streets.

Today, I dropped my fifteen year old daughter off at school.

The school is on the another side of a busy street from where I stop.

I watched with admiration and gratitude at what happened next.

She paused a moment, looked both ways and made sure things were clear.

Then?

She crossed the street.

My heart leapt.

Moments earlier?

I restrained from reminding her: Be careful.

Or.

I’m here for you.

She learned.

She’s got a lot of busy streets to cross.

And a bit of me?

I’m a bit sad to watch her go.

Listen to this.

If you’re a parent, try not to cry.