For fifteen months, I've been his legs, carrying him from crib, to high chair, to the yard, and back again. At times, my arms and back would break, but I tried to savor the moment anyway. To love each time he looked up at me like this, begging to be lifted up.
Then, he realized he had two little legs of his own. And, with a little help, he could hold himself up. He could even take steps, first holding both of my hands, then one. And finally, just one finger.
Until evening came, and he thought, Hey, I can do this. I know I can.
So, he let go. And he did.
Speaking of walking, have you read Walk On! A Guide for Babies of All Ages by Marla Frazee? It's a charming little book (albeit, not really meant for babies actually learning to walk...) about the analogy between taking your first steps to walk and taking other intimidating first steps in life.