by irene bean

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (17)
Share on Facebook


A Solid Foundation



Not Trying to be Corny

This Little Light of Mine

We Were Once Young

Veni, Vedi, Vinca

U Tube Has a New Star

Packing a 3-Iron

Getting Personal

Welcome Again

Well... Come on in

Christmas Shopping

There's no Substitute

Dressed for Success

Cancun Can-Can

Holy Guacamole

Life can be Crazy

The New Dog

Hurricane Reenie

He Delivers

No Spilt Milk

Naked Fingers


Have Ya Heard the One About?

The Great Caper


Barney's P***S

My New Security System


*Dedicated to a Special Friend*

It's all about pushing, so it seems, from the very beginning. Well, *blush* I won't go back to that very, very intimate conceptional push.

Kids. You carry them in your euphemistic belly for nine months, and then with mighty heaves, you push them out. No sooner are they pushed out, and then you're pushing a bottle or a breast into their mouths.

Push, push, push.

Pacifiers, strollers, strained carrots, playground swings. It's all about pushing.

Kids. They cry, they laugh, they sleep, they coo, they whine. You do the same - except for the sleeping.

You reluctantly push them to schools: preschool, elementary, middle, and high schools. You push them to do homework, engage in sports, make friends, and to worship a higher being other than yourself. You push good manners, integrity, compassion and respect for others. You especially push them to love themselves.

You're also there to give them that important little push for their first wobbly bike ride without training wheels, and before you know it, they're pushing for their driver's license. Kids!

Push, push push.

They're loud, they're messy, they're infuriating, and they know how to push your buttons. Ask any parent in the checkout line at the grocery store. Ask any toe-tapping parent waiting for a teenager who's exceeded curfew.

Push, push, push.

Yet, for all the pushing... one day it ends and you just want to hold on for dear life -literally hold on to the life you've been pushing for so many years. You never meant to push them away - only to push them forward. One morning you wake up and they're gone. They've flown away.

Well, that's how I felt this afternoon. I went to our back porch and discovered an empty finch nest. Without even a proper goodbye, they took flight. I suppose they were excited to get on with life - and joyfully vacate the nest 'called home.

For over a month, I've watched Mr. and Mrs. Finch build a nest and tend their young. I've watched them push their young along, much like all parents do. The babies were noisy and poopy and demanding and messy and sooooo adorable. They grew at a fast pace - one day they were scrawny little bawlers - and then, remarkably, they suddenly appeared all grown up. How does that happen?

They outgrew the nest, and presumably, were pushed out. Like parents should, Mr. and Mrs. Finch gave their children wings.

Last night I was a wee bit sad. I was missing the happy clamor of a busy young family. Today, I'll clean up the mess they left behind (damn teenagers, you should see all the shit they left behind!) but I'll think happy thoughts - that they're in flight - happy and healthy because their parents did a good job. I'll pray their journey is safe and bountiful as they push forward.

And then with a sigh, I'll push all sad thoughts aside and fly forward.

*You will, too, lovey*

Read/Post Comments (17)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.