Holding Hands

Calfgrit5 always holds my hand when we walk anywhere together. When we walk down the sidewalk together, when we walk through the mall together. Sometimes even when we’re just walking through our house, or in our yard. This is something he initiates, and I accept with great joy.

Calfgrit9 has outgrown hand-holding, but he held my hand yesterday for the first time in a long while. We were walking down some steep, concrete stairs of a parking deck, and he was a little nervous. The stairs were outside, so we could see how high we were. It was a little disorienting. So each boy held one of my hands while their other hand held the railing as we all walked down.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Calfgrit9 held my hand for only another minute before letting go. Calfgrit5 continued to hold my hand as we walked.

It’s such a little thing, really. Holding the hand of a child. But when you realize the time they’ll do it is so fleeting, it’s precious. When they’re first learning to walk, they have to hold your hand for balance. Then as they get good at it, they want to let go and walk (or run) on their own. Then there’s that very short time after they’ve proven they can walk and run on their own, that they come back and will hold your hand.

Calfgrit5 is at this point now, where he realizes that it’s a big world out there, and he feels secure when holding Daddy’s (or Mommy’s) hand. But it won’t be long before he again wants to assert his independence and walk without holding. He’ll want to walk like his big brother, with no safety net in the big world.

The first time he gets out of our car and doesn’t immediately, of his own volition, take my hand, a little part of my heart will die.

Bullgrit