there is something so bitter sweet about seeing you walk.
An urge to gather you up in the arms, willing you not to grow up, ever. not to leave the arms of your parents. to stop you from falling down and hurting yourself, from learning the lessons of life the hard way,
and then there is a pride in seeing that the little one you created is now walking independently. to see that you have the grit to fall and then get back right up. to get hurt and swallow your ego and hurt, and learn to do things right the second time.
This is, probably what the poet meant, when he said
"a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye".
Is there any other way that makes you feel so full, so complete, so much a human being than having a child of your own?
