About That Nest

The day my daughter got her license, I was overwhelmed with anxiety and pride at the same time.  She did it, and now she had stepped into a whole new world of independence and growing up.  When she drove off to school on her own, it was a surreal moment and it made me cry knowing that I can’t protect her on the road, that there is so much in life she has to do on her own and I can’t be there for her.  I can be a phone call away, I can be the place she comes home too, but she has to do this life on her own.  And I want her to, I want her to grab life by the horns and run with it living life to the fullest and being happy in it.  She is living her life fully, nothing less would be acceptable, no matter what Mom feels inside.

And then I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, my oldest is driving my second child to school with her.  Watching them drive off was so hard, letting them go and knowing that life  changed completely and there is no going back.  They are teens, so close to the next step in their journey and their parents will be as much a part of their lives as they have time and patience for us.  Because life marches on and we just keep stepping forward, sometimes sideways...sometimes a little bit back. But always life keeps marching on whether we want it to slow down or not.

And then there was the day that the girls left together, following behind the bus that took Bradley away too.  All at once, the three of them were gone, not in the same vehicle, but all gone at the same time.  And it gave me a lump in my throat and it left me standing on the sidewalk as I watched them all ride away, leaving me behind.  And as hard as it was in that moment; it was as it is meant to be.  The kids leave the nest and the parents are left to turn bedrooms into craft rooms, and remodel houses and somehow try to create a new life without the kids in it everyday.  And we just worry about them. Our brains can only take so much stress and anxiety, so we get numb to it, and try to keep the Faith that all will be well, that all will work out somehow.  And if things go awry, our phones will ring and we’ll do the best we can for these precious kids that carry our hearts outside of our bodies.

My kids are growing up but are still young enough that at the end of the day, they come home.  And Eric and I know that Bradley will likely always be home with us, and that’s a good thing for us.  Medically speaking, probably the best for him too.  The girls sometimes say they are thinking of staying home; real life gets scary sometimes, and we smile and always tell them they don’t have to rush away.  We give them the reassurance that home is here and that they can be home, come home.  But we smile knowing that as each day gets closer, the girls are starting to flap their wings and test the skies... we might get lucky and they come back, but we both know that life is waiting for them and they are destined for amazing futures - where ever that takes them.

If they don’t come back for us, we think they’ll be back for Bradley.  They each have special bonds with their brother, blood ties count for sure - but the connections created with Bradley go beyond blood ties.  I want to believe that love will find space in whatever lives the girls lead, and love always counts the most.  Knowing how hard this is going to be on Bradley (let alone Dad and I) as they drive off to their tomorrows, it makes each day with them a little more poignant, each babysitting opportunity that they get to spend with just Bradley, more precious.  They don’t see it right now, but Dad and I, we see it and we feel it, and these are the memories we store for those fast approaching tomorrows.