I’ve been watching the barnswallow families all summer, and the little birdy family in the nest on the front porch, and the wren family in the patio cabinet. One thing that all of these families have had in common is that the little babies, who were so helpless in the beginning, grow up (quite rapidly) and fly away to new nests and adventures. After all of this observation, you’d think that I would be prepared when my own nestlings fly off.
Well, one of my baby birds is flying out of the nest this week. Ryan, our second son, is moving into a house with some good friends from work. He will be only about 15 minutes away, but that’s alot farther than just up the stairs.
I know that this is normal and good. I know that all baby birds grow up and fly off – it’s God’s plan. I’ve been watching them do this all summer long. But my mother’s heart is sad about it. I will miss my baby bird being in the nest, close to me and part of the brood. Maybe God has sent me so many bird families this summer to help me, knowing that I would be feeling this way. Do you suppose the mama birds are sad when their babies fly off on their own? Probably not – but then, they only raise their babies for a few weeks and I have raised mine for 20 years – much more time to become attached!
I’ll be fine. On a positive note, I am looking forward to the inevitable shifting around of rooms, which will result in all of Anna and David’s toys moving out of my bedroom and into the study, which will become their playroom, as soon as we get Matthew moved out of it and back upstairs into the room that Ryan is vacating.
Sounds like another interesting week!