Some
time back I relayed the story how my Dad built a birdhouse for Hannah. Hannah
then painted it. At her direction, I then placed it in our yard where no birds
moved in. Later, I moved the birdhouse to a different location and we waited.
If you wish, you can read the details of that story here.
I
spent much of this past spring and into the summer concerned that the location
we moved the birdhouse to was not the most ideal place. It was in our front
yard placed between two tall oak trees that stand beside each other separated
by about four feet. Hannah liked the idea of the birdhouse standing between the
two trees so I planted the house there even though I was a bit wary of the constant
squirrel traffic and the close proximity of our house and the street. Once the
house was settled, we would check it every few days. We would unhook the lock then
open the lid so we could peer down into an empty home. The only thing the house
seemed to attract was a place where wasps wanted to live as I swatted away at
least three separate small nests from the inside of the lid.
One
day I had worked in the yard. By this time, it was summer so the heat had
drained me on this day. I rested on our porch cooling off before going inside our
house. I watched a few cars drive up and down our street. I soaked in a breeze
or two that drifted by through the muggy air. Mostly, I studied that birdhouse.
I was fairly confident that the time for any bird to make the
birdhouse it’s own for the season had passed. I told myself I should move it to
a location less busy. For some reason though I did not follow through that day
or in the days that followed.
A
couple of days later though I looked into the yard thinking I had seen an
optical illusion. It appeared to me that a bird had stuck it’s head out from the
hole in the house. I watched for a short time before noticing a blue bird
darting around the front yard trees. I made my way outside where I cautiously
approached the birdhouse to peek inside. There, I found a small empty nest.
I
rushed into the house to find Hannah then I brought her outside. I held her so
she could peer inside as she was amazed and excited at the new find. Jennifer
joined us as well. A new excitement surrounded the three of us as we had new feathered
neighbors.
Hannah
wanted to look into the birdhouse often. I told her though that we needed to
not check every day. We didn’t want to be those neighbors who were always in
somebody’s business. She accepted this although we would sneak a peek more often than
we should have.
One
day I realized I hadn’t checked the birdhouse in a few days. I made my way to
the house and opened the lid. When I looked inside I discovered five small blue
eggs. I closed and latched the lid then went to locate Hannah.
We
approached the birdhouse. I told her I wanted her to see something but I did
not give her any further details. I unlatched the lid, lifted her high and
tried to watch her face as she discovered the eggs inside. She counted them and
commented on their color. She then ran to tell her mom. A few days later, we
visited her grandparents where she was able to tell the grandfather who built
her birdhouse about the nest now built there in our yard. He tipped off Hannah
that his birdhouse, sitting on a small rise where a walnut tree once stood, had
eggs in it at that moment, so we took a gander at that as well.
Back
home, Hannah wanted to look at the nest every day. I told her we should
probably not check it every day. I reasoned that the mother bird needed time to
hatch the eggs without interference from us. Still, we looked in on them from
time to time just to check their progress. In some way, it made me recall my
favorite episode of The Andy Griffith
Show ever. It’s called “Opie the Birdman”. In the episode, Opie kills a
mother bird with his slingshot leaving baby birds without their mother. When
Andy discovers what Opie has done he makes him take care of the baby birds
which Opie does capably. Later, Andy leads Opie to consider what should happen
with the baby birds helping Opie to think about what the mother bird would do
as the baby birds grew. Opie realizes the mother would want the baby birds to
fly free, so he takes each bird from the cage where he cared for them, holds
open his hand allowing each bird to fly away. Opie comes to understand those
moments with those baby birds were over because once they knew they could fly
they would not return to a cage. So, while I enjoyed the excitement Hannah felt
from this new experience I also realized another day would come soon where
those eggs would hatch and eventually baby birds would grow and fly away.
We
watched the birdhouse every other day or so. One day I looked inside. I immediately
left looking for Hannah. Without telling her anything, I held her up where she
looked inside. Her eyes saw what my eyes had seen earlier, three baby birds with their
mouths wide open. We would peer inside from time to time watching the baby
birds grow. I watched the yard a bit more intently to make sure neighborhood
cats and those pesky squirrels weren’t sniffing around the yard too much. Once
I watched the mother bird dive bomb a squirrel as it tried to climb up one of
the oak trees near the birdhouse. I knew then the baby birds, and their mother,
would be okay.
Life
gets busy and time moves on quicker than we often recognize. One evening, I
realized I hadn’t checked on the birdhouse in a few days. I walked to the spot between
the two oaks where it rests. I unlatched the hook, opened the lid and looked
inside. The baby birds were gone.
On
The Andy Griffith Show when Opie
releases the birds, they fly into the trees. Opie looks at the cage then
mentions how empty it looks. Andy, who has watched his son release each bird, agrees
with Opie then as he looks up at a nearby tree comments how nice and full the
trees seem as the birds sing. Yes, this scene ran through my head as I made my
way to locate Hannah after my discovery. Real life though is seldom scripted
like a TV show, no matter how hard TV producers and executives try.
Again,
without telling her anything, Hannah and I made our way to the birdhouse. I
unlatched the lock then held her up to look inside. She was silent for a few
seconds before she said, “They’re gone.”
“Yes,
they’ve grown up and flown away.”
I
sat Hannah down on her feet then latched the house lock. We started to walk
away. For some reason, Hannah took my hand, not unusual but something I was not
expecting, she then said, “I wasn’t ready for them to go.”
Even
though we kept walking I knew deep, deep inside I had been knocked for a loop by her admission.
I did not anticipate her response which by this time included a few tears.
Struggling
for what to say I asked Hannah to consider how crowded that birdhouse would
become as the birds grew bigger and how they would look silly sitting on top of
each other. She faintly laughed at my feeble answer leaving room for more questions.
“Why
did they leave? Will they be okay? Can they fly?”
“They
grew up. When they get big enough they fly away and go out on their own. You
know, one day you’ll grow up and you’ll leave me and Mom here.”
This
wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “I don’t want to leave you and Mommie,”
she said between sobs.
“Baby,
that’s a long, long time from now. Don’t worry about that, ok? Just always know
Mom and I love you.”
She
and I sat on our front steps in the approaching dusk of a July evening. My
little girl, six summers old at that moment, tanned by the sun with a heart
tendered by God, sat in my lap. I brushed her blonde hair back from her face,
wondering how she would digest learning about this part of the cycle of life. What would she take from these moments? I held her close, disappointed that I fumbled through finding the just-right answer to soothe
her concerns yet knowing one day it will be me saying to her, “I’m not ready
for you to go.” We sat in the silence a little longer. I considered how life with the ones you love is often messy, uneven, and, sometimes, difficult, but how even those times are still special in
their own way.
Eventually,
we would go back into the house so we could tell Mom how the baby birds had
left the birdhouse. Until then, we sat on the steps in the quiet. Finally, that silence lifted when
I heard baby blue birds, new to flight, fluttering their wings around the trees making me consider how life, this life, sure is nice and full.
