So don’t tell me not to worry, because I will and I do. I can turn a blind-eye when necessary, I can even keep my big mouth shut, once-in-a-while, but my heartstrings are still attached. Them I cannot sever. They are attached and twisted into knots forever, with no undoing.
Only God knows how I have tried to keep my children from making the same mistakes as I have, trying to keep them from tripping over the same stone, from falling into the same ditch… But learn from their own mistakes they must.
I never listened to my mother either!
But neither will I accept that just because they are grown, with families of their own, I cannot give advice—take it or leave it. I can and will offer an ear or a shoulder, because I will always be here for them. I see pain in their eyes, I see sorrow, and I’ve even seen their loneliness. I see the weight they carry on their shoulders, and, oh, how I wish I could carry their burden for them.
A mother that loves may cut the cord, but her heartstrings will forever remain attached. It is at night, in the quiet and in the dark, when our tears fall, our shoulders tremble with the weight of worry and care we feel for our grown babies. It is at night, in the solemn silence that a mother lifts her voice to God in humble prayer on her children’s behalf, because her tears and prayers are her only weapons left.
I’ll cut the cord, I’ll even be silent, but I’ll never sever my heartstrings!