Help Them Fly

"Time for me to fly,

I've got to set myself free.

Time for me to fly,

that's just how its' got to be.

I know it hurts to say goodbye,

but it's time for me to fly."

-- REO Speedwagon

The bird's nest outside my office window is empty now.  For the past several weeks, I've watched as the mother bird created the nest, straw by straw, and sat patiently while laying and nurturing her eggs until they hatched.  Three baby birds, helpless in their nest, depending on their mama to help them grow, until one day they can fly off on their own.  Today, they were gone.

Sweet irony.  So many moms I know are seeing their babies leave the nest too -- and are struggling with the bittersweet goodbye.  Somehow 18 years just doesn't seem enough.  Being a mom is a big part of who we are.  Just like the baby birds who sat for hours with mouths wide open, waiting for mom to bring back the morsels that would help them grow, our children too depended on us.  After all, we had the magic eyes to find their lost favorite shirt, the hugs to soothe their hurts, the wisdom to nurture their spirit, and the smile to reassure them that, no matter what life dealt, mom will always love them and be their number one fan.  They kept returning home to us until that day.....that wonderful, yet difficult day when nature tells them, just as it does little birds, that it's time to fly away.

Some joke that God designed the challenging teen years to make it easier for moms to face this day and accept letting go.  Haha -- no doubt this does help!  (Thanks God.)  But no matter how ready we think we are to say goodbye, when the moment comes, the memories of our baby sons and daughters flood back in and we wonder how the years went by so quickly. 

When my now 24-year-old son was visiting colleges in his senior year of high school, I wrote the following while dining solo, waiting for him to return from a student experience: 

I sit alone with Bad Company entertaining me,

while my baby test drives his new life. 

Dorm rooms, dining halls, hangin' with friends

in a place so foreign yet so wonderful

-- on the brink of possibilities, 

on the edge of the unlimited. 

Will it be here he meets his wife, his muse, his destiny? 

I sit alone and proud,

reflecting on the life of my son.

The frame of a man he is,

but I see only my little boy. 

I remember first smiles, first steps, first words.

I'm not ready for this, but he is.

Every moment of his life has prepared him for this.

Every tear. Every joy.

Every question. Every hug.

Every answer. Every ploy.

All journey to this moment -- stepping through the portal from boy to man.

I sit alone with joy.

"I love you Mom," he gently reminds me

-- the words of my baby, the voice of a man.

I sit alone in peace.  Blessed by the life of my son.

Indeed, how lucky we are to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

If you're struggling with facing the empty (or emptier) nest as your kids leave for college or life on their own, I am confident it's because that nest was one heck of a lively, wonderful place to grow up -- because of you.  So live in peace moms.  Job well done.

With love,

Cindy