And then you grow wings

“You’re beautiful,” I say, amazed, as you turn to the mirror. Your blue summer dress has no wearer, and I realize that the little girl you were just a young woman has become. Your body is now more than a hint, a promise, it has fully unfolded, and your laughter permeates the house.
“Oh, you are exaggerated,” you replied, laughing, and I am very well aware that you still have pleasure in saying that I am encouraging you, but perhaps a little nostalgia and astonishment in my words. It is probably a mixture of pride, amazement, affection and care. I protected you when you needed it. I have been so close to you for years as we were very close, as well as nobody else in my life. A little girl who put her hand in mine and confided to me, without reservation, and I took that hand and promised to guide you, to the best of my abilities, every day of your life. Perhaps the kind of leadership, the strengthening over the years, changed, but I have never deprived you of my hand. You’ve been deeply rooted in life for sure.
“Yes, you are beautiful. Not only because you are young, but because you radiate with joy and life-lovers,” I reply thoughtfully, and even if they are not visible to anyone else, I see them, the wings that are up to you. Strong, big wings that push you into life. I am connected to you and I know that there is so much infinity that this life has to offer you. I will not only prevent you from spreading the wings out, I will open the doors wide, because your place is no longer with me, but out there. You’re no longer my little girl.
“I am also so happy, and I will always love you,” says this girl, who is no longer a girl, and hops violently toward me, waving her arms around my neck. I return your embrace, then release myself from it, push you away from me.
“I’ll always hold your hand, I’ll always be with you, no matter how far you are from me, and you have to go away to live. It’s part of it,” I hear myself say, knowing that it’s right, even if my life will look quite different when you’re not there. I will have to re-establish myself, get used to the fact that you no longer determine my course of the day and do not need me constantly present. It is my development.
“Oh, now do not look so sad. I will not go away, “you say, and you must comfort me, but it is not your part. Your part is the rush and experience. It is my life to live, unlike all the many years with you.
“Yes, you go away, and that’s good. You have to find your place. I would just wish you to come back from time to time and carry the smile that you are wearing now, or when it is necessary to comfort you,” I reply, stretched.
“Are you sad?” you ask abruptly.
“Of course, I am sad, but also happy. I am sad because I take leave of my little girl, and happy that this young woman has enough strength to find her way,” I replied truthfully. And you spread out your wings, and use your possibilities.