16 candles

I went bowling on my 16th birthday.  It wasn't a bowling party.  It wasn't anything planned.

A friend from school simply showed up to our house with another friend of his (I think it was because that friend had a car) and took me to the bowling alley in the nearest town to celebrate.  I didn't even know that they knew it was my birthday.

That was excitement for a girl turning 16 years old who grew up in a pretty rural area and bowling was a fun night out in town, even though I was not a stellar bowler and gutter balls were par for the course.  Ooof, can I mix my sports metaphors?

Anyway, this spontaneous date of sorts was exciting.  I remember feeling grown up and mature and, well, liked. 

But those feelings don't hold a candle to the feelings of wonder and happiness as I watch my own son learn the sport of bowling.  Wonder at how he is growing in this world.  Happiness that he is gaining confidence and learning about friendships.

But mixed in with that wonder and happiness is the bittersweet layer of letting go.  Letting him go to learn his own technique for getting that 8 pound ball down the lane.  Letting him go to understand for himself how he can be a kind friend.  Letting him go to get a strike, a spare or the dreaded gutter ball of life.

So the letting go is hard, as many of you Mamas understand.  I am just thankful that at this age the bumpers that block the gutters are automatically pulled up and any ball that is hurled, rolled, dropped or pushed down the lane eventually makes it to the end and knocks some pins down.

I just hope I always know when I need to be those bumpers.