I'm in the middle of this path of independence with my kids and it is bittersweet. (I too felt the weight when they were younger.)
Those small, common moments of love and intimacy you get when your kids are small fade away and become infrequent. Stuff like hugs, them wanting to hang around you, them doing things with you just to do things with you. Still amazing when they happen, though.
Bittersweet - I reached them to ride a bike about a month ago.
I still have to look out for the little one and as I see the older one ride to the next crossing I feel proud and afraid and a bit melancholic seeing his silhouette growing faintly smaller hoping I teached him enough to stop at the crossing fully knowing that I couldn't intervene at this distance. I am afraid that I might not have, deeply afraid, regardless that there is not a single car on the road. The I am relieved and proud as he looks back at us, waiting as we catch up to him.
