Walking Through Life

I love it when Tryn lets me hold her hand. I don’t get to much anymore, she is a big girl after all and under the impression that hand holding is for babies. However, when we walk across a parking lot (if I am not already holding Berlin, pushing a cart, carrying bags of stuff, or holding Berlin AND carry bags of stuff) I have Tryn hold my hand. Partly for her safety, but partly because it makes me feel like she still needs me. She still depends on me and still requires me to do many things for her, but each day is a step toward making it possible for her to someday live on her own and to not need me anymore. In little things, such as having her hold my hand when we cross the street, we are teaching her not only to be careful of oncoming cars, but to also not jump into things without looking where she is going. So that someday she can not only talk a walk safely alone, but she can also decide if she should get in the car with her friends who are leaving a party after having a couple of drinks.

This last weekend Tryn and I took a quick run to the grocery store for some ice cream. I had her hold my hand as we crossed the parking lot, and this time she didn’t immediately let go as soon as we reached the curb. She held my hand as we walked into the store, and I was not the one to finally let go. The best part about holding Tryn’s hand is that it is like trying to hold onto a flittering fairy. When she is holding onto my hand every stair needs to be jumped, every step needs to be skipped, and there is dancing among all of it.

It’s funny because when she walks alone, she just walks. But when she holds my hand it is like she feels safe and free to wriggle, jump, and dance through each step, because I am holding her hand and I won’t let her fall down. And she is so happy. She laughs and giggles, and even if I am trying to hurry I can’t tell her to stop because she is having so much fun holding my hand. I try to imagine what is going on in her mind and what her steps would be like if she was constantly holding my hand, she would, I think, literally try to fly through life.

It is also these sweet times when I realize that my kids are not the only ones learning from these experiences. It makes me realize how much our relationship with God can be so much like a child and parent. That when God calls himself my Father that he is probably feeling the same thing that I am feeling towards Tryn…that I wish she could hold my hand like this every day for the rest of my life.