The Day He Left.
- Cole Metcalfe
- May 20, 2022
- 3 min read
Sitting on the edge of the playground I watched him walk away.
I'll never forget the moment he turned and waved goodbye.

I'm talking, of course, about my 2-year-old son Moses.
I had just taken out a loan of energy from my tomorrow in order to keep up with him, since I had completely run out for the day, when three kids joined us on the playground.
They chased him around, I spun them in the spinner, and we all swung on the swings.
I followed Moses over to the edge of the mulch where it turns into an open field and sat with him there for a second.
The other kids ran over to us to get Moses' attention and then started running through the field into the back area of the park.
Moses looked at me, looked at them, and then looked back at me with his "should I go?" eyes.
I told him, "you can go with them if you want. Or you and I can keep playing on the playground."
He pondered for a second, then slowly started walking toward his newfound friends while looking at me with an "are you okay if I leave you?" look
I said, "you can go with your friends; I'll stay right here. Have fun!"
He walked a few more steps, glanced back, and gave me a goodbye wave.
He then turned back toward his friends and ran toward them.
It was a big moment for me, because it was a new moment for him.
Yes, he had played with many friends at the park before.
No, I don't always play with him and his friends. I make sure to give him plenty of room to explore and experience new people and memories without me right there beside him.
I'm always watching from a distance, but he doesn't know that. ;)
But this time was different because he had a conscious decision to make: stay and play with dad or go off with new friends to explore something new.
His eyes told the story of his heart. He enjoyed playing with me, but he knew this was an opportunity that doesn't arrive all that often: playing in a different area with these new people.
He knew I'd be there when he was ready to come back—I had always been. But these new friends may move on to something else soon and he enjoyed their company, so it was best for him to go with them.
This could've been a sad moment for me.
To be honest, while it was happening I kind of expected it to be.
I anticipated the sad feeling of "he's getting so big, he's not going to want to play with me much longer" to come on, but it never did.
I sat there smiling at him.
Each step he took was another step away from me and toward someone else, and it was strange to see, but in my soul I loved it.
I loved seeing him want to be with new people. It seemed like he was truly growing up.
Not just in stature or age, but into a little human who loves other humans.
He wanted to spend time with these kids, trusting full-well that I would be there for him when he was ready to come back.
The role of the parent is never to raise and retain, but to shepherd and send out.
As much as I expected to be sad to see him grow up so fast and choose time with friends over time with me, I believe the reason I wasn't was because I've reminded myself over and over and over again that my child is not mine to keep.
He is a gift that has been graciously loaned to me by a good God.
He is a soul that I have been tasked with training up in the way he should go, and then continue leading and learning from as I send him out into the world.
The role of the parent is never to raise and retain, but to shepherd and send out.
I love my son.
Because I love my son, I refuse to use him as a means to bring me happiness.
My love for him requires my surrendering of him to the purpose he was created for:
To love God and love others, even if that means letting him go.
...it seems it usually does.
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