Third Bird

And then there’s this girl who promises to never sail away. 

Today the third of my four baby birds flew out of the nest.

This time it’s my first-born who is moving out. I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that she’s moving just a few miles away; with my third-born in Asia and my second across the country in Ohio, it’s a new experience for me to have a daughter living close by.


And while I tell myself that this is not a monumental life change, I can’t deny that my nest is down to just one fledgling - and the fact that she’s currently vacationing in Seoul means that  for the next six days, this nest is altogether empty.

But here’s something I have realized. My home is not an empty nest, abandoned and devoid of any future purpose.

My three daughters go out into the world not as birds but as sailing ships, plotting their own courses and bending the winds to their purposes.

This house - my house, our house - is a safe port in a storm, an anchor to which they can always return for security, serenity, and a safe place to rest.

And I am not a mother bird who pushes out her brood and then flies off to an unknown future. I am a harbor master, an anchor. My job is to stand ready, strong and steady, keeping my heart and my home as a safe haven for my adventuresome daughters.