I love bluebirds. They visit each spring and stay awhile before they fly away in the late summer. I love not just their strength when they fly but their colors and tie to happiness. My daughters are like the bluebirds I love so much. I watch them fly and realize that was my job and I did it well.
Much is written about how our children wrap themselves around our hearts and become so dear to us. How much we miss them when they venture out on their own. I thought I was prepared. These last few years with them away in college has left me adrift. Like a bit of flotsam floating on stormy seas, calm some days and turbulent on others. But this year is different. My oldest just moved into her own apartment and living very independently. My youngest, who I've watched play team sports since she was 6 years old, is in her last year of undergrad college and planning to go to grad school. My husband and I happily drive to watch her volleyball matches and watch these games that are so much fun and provide a time to pursue my photography hobby. And this chapter is coming to an end. She is a loving child with a fierce streak that matches her red hair. These games have always provided a common ground for us three to put aside our differences through the years and feel the love. Isn't it interesting that as this chapter closes, we really don't need this common ground any more -- we all survived the turbulent teen years and have come out close. Like my oldest, she is moving into a new phase of life and ready to be independent.
I will find my way and enjoy life without the daily interaction with my children. Meanwhile, I am cleaning house -- not just the dirt and dust but filling bags from their rooms of their childhood things left behind. Filling bags from the basement rec room of more childhood things, and things we needed as a 4-unit family but with just my husband and I, we don't really need them any more. Like, how many cupcake pans do I really need right now? Creating piles of things to sell on eBay or a yard sale. It's like one big purge that will likely take me through the winter.
And then will come spring and the bluebirds -- and happiness.
