Max used to wear these.
Then, all of a sudden, he wakes up and his feet are big and he knows calculus and CPR and how to change a flat tire and a thing or two about physics and music and being a trusted friend and a good boyfriend, and his arms are so strong that I can’t wrestle with him and win anymore.
Where the hell have I been? Why am I so surprised by this?
On Thursday morning, he’ll put on his flip-flops, cargo shorts, his new USC t-shirt and a ball cap, walk out the door, get on a plane and fly from this nest to Los Angeles to begin the next chapter of his life.
When, exactly, are birds ready to leave the nest, you might ask? I have been turning this question over in my own mind lately. Apparently it has to do with surviving predatory attacks. The sooner a little birdie learns to fly, the safer he/she will be.
“Most birds cannot fly until their muscle structure has had time to develop. In the meantime, the nest becomes their entire world. Baby birds are not responsible for food gathering or protection of the nest, so they generally develop a psychological dependence, which must be overcome. Parent birds begin to teach their fledglings the importance of flying by remaining a short distance away from the nest during feeding. If the young birds are to survive, they must step away from the nest. Frequently, this means a few hard falls to the ground followed a long trip back to the safety of the nest.
All of this practice time, awkward as it may seem, does teach the fledgling about the mechanics of flight. Falls to the ground become more controlled as the young bird stretches out his or her wings. Short hops back to the nest become longer flights. Bird parents continue to encourage their brood to leave the nest for longer periods of time. Some species actually adopt a tough love policy, leaving the fledglings alone to develop their own flying instincts.”
- From Wisegeek.com/ How do birds learn to fly?
Okay, so Max has pretty much mastered the mechanics of flight. He’s suffered through the awkward stages. He’s had his share of hard falls to the ground. He’s done the short hops and the eventual longer flights. I guess it IS true that he’s moved on to the point where he glides with a fair amount of grace, poise and confidence. But, wait, what about me? The mom he’s leaving behind - the one who’s still willing to do the food gathering, the protecting, the nurturing? (I’ll even continue to throw in doing his laundry, laughing at his jokes and pretending not to notice when he hasn’t bathed for a few days!)
And, by the way, I haven’t detected any potential attackers lurking around the neighborhood.
Is it really possible that this nest of ours on 58th Street is no longer his entire world?
I know, get out the violins. Get a grip, Gloria, you say. I can guess what you’re thinking: lots of moms have already gone through this and survived it beautifully - with dignity, a minimum of tears and only a slight weight gain. Many courageous women before me have been able to say good-bye, then turn around and convert their kid’s room to an office or weight-room, pilates or yoga studio. But, this is MAX we’re talking about!
He had such cute little feet and, and when he padded about in his beloved Mickey Mouse shoes, his big sister chasing after him, this nest was bustling and full and noisy and fun and challenging
and complete.
4 comments:
G - I'm reminded of something I just read in Nora Ephron's funny book, "I Feel Bad About My Neck." In a list of things she wished she had known, this is included somewhere between "You can order more than one dessert" and "Write everything down."
"The empty nest is underrated."
Good luck, Laura P C
Our dogs will never go to college. Thanks goodness for some things.
xoxo
Susie
Roots and wings. That’s what parents provide. (And the grandparents provide the Mickey shoes. They did so, pair after pair sent to Max from Florida, until there wasn’t a size big enough for his still growing feet.)
The roots were easy at times, difficult at others. Developing traditions as a family, growing and learning, riding out the rough spots, sharing the joys, getting him prepared for leaving the nest. And what a fine young man he has become.
Gradually we'll adjust. So will Max.
I doubt we'll convert his room into anything else. A fresh coat of paint and new carpeting (for his room and others) is likely all it will see. His room, like Abbie’s, will be there for when he returns, how ever long or short the stay.
So, Max leaves for the university. I will miss him. You will miss him. We will miss him together. It is how it is meant to be.
Gloria, there is another mum across the other side of the world who knows exactly how you are feeling right now. In just over a week's time our 21 year old Mitch will be flown to another state for an interview that may also see him fly from our cosy nest. We have watched from the sidelines with both pride and heavy hearts as he has succeeded through each stage in the process. There is nothing quite as bittersweet as letting your children go.
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