During the past few weeks, we’ve watched a pair of robins gather twigs and materials to create a safe and cozy haven, lay their eggs, hatch their four newborns and care for them morning, noon and night by bringing food and protecting them from the elements.
We’ve had a “bird’s-eye” view as they chose a spot five feet from the Newsleader office entrance on the waterspout between the brick wall and the roof where there are several large windows to view all their comings and goings.
In 10-12 days, the young ones went from scraggly scrawny nestlings, who could barely get their beaks above the edge of the nest and whose heads seem to be three times larger than their bodies, like nature’s own bobbleheads, to scrappy fledglings, who are jostling for space and jockeying to be first in line for their next meal.
This week we’ve had the rare privilege of watching as each fuzzy chick discovers and starts to stretch its feathery wings, readying for its first flight. The mother and father robin gently encourage, coax and set the example for the young ones, watching mindfully for any hazards. Soon they will each be on their own, guided by others in the flock.
My daughter Rajahna is getting married this weekend and will be moving with her new husband to Illinois for her grad studies this fall. Where did the time go? Like the mother robin, I prepared the nest and doted on her as a young child, tried to protect her from the harshness of the world and did my best to guide and encourage her to become the woman she is today. I can’t take all the credit. She is her own person and has come into adulthood as a strong, loving and very capable human being.
Unlike the mother robin, human mothers spend many years, not days, nurturing their children. With this comes the awesome responsibility of learning when to hold on, when to let go, when to reign in, when to loosen the apron strings and how much, and teaching each to stand on their own, not only physically but also mentally, emotionally and even socially.
This brings to mind an incident when Rajahna was a shy 6- or 7-year-old. She had witnessed some bullying at her elementary school. The words were in a different language so when she asked her girlfriend why she was crying, the girl said a boy from her country was calling her names. Rajahna came home and relayed this story to me hoping I could fix the problem. I told her I would be willing to talk to a teacher about it but I also shared that when I’m not around that Rajahna should tell an adult so the matter could be dealt with right away. I also said I won’t be able to “fix” all the problems she encounters in her life and that she will need to be strong and do the right thing in any given situation.
Big words for a young, very petite girl, but ones I know she took to heart as she has always had a strong sense of who she is and how she can effect positive change in the world. She hopes to continue this by completing her master’s in music therapy, bringing some joy through music to those in their final stages of life through hospice.
Now she is spreading her own wings – starting a new chapter in her life, beginning a new family and continuing her education. She will always have family to count on despite the distance. She will also create her own “flock” of friends, teachers, mentors and community to help support her and her husband.
As her mother, I will still worry and want to protect her from the elements. I will also miss her smiling face I’ve grown so accustomed to seeing daily and her dry banter I’ve come to love and appreciate. I’m having a difficult time letting go. But despite this, I know she will make her way in the world with self-confidence, poise and composure.
Even so, I wish, as I’m sure other mothers including the robins do for their offspring, for her to have clear skies, smooth landings, calm after the storm (because there will be storms) but above all, room to soar to her greatest heights. You go, girl!
