When I watch him play, I think of the long and bumpy road we've travelled since he started piano; how his confidence has grown as his fingers found the right notes.
His hands aren't big enough to stretch an octave, and yet he's already left me behind; better than I ever was. No longer apprehensive about lessons, but finding his own way and striding ahead.
I think of all the other journeys we've started together: how tightly he held onto my hand when he first went to school, or a party, or swimming lessons or just tried something new like going on a zip wire - and how, slowly the grip loosened until he let go. And I want him to, even if sometimes I feel a touch of sadness when he does because he's growing up so fast.
Of course I'll always be here to hold his hand when he needs me, but I know he has to let go to learn, just as I have to learn to let go.
This week's Gallery theme is Hands.
