My first born has flown the nest. It has been a few days now and is a strange feeling but okay. Perhaps good will come of it and a new and better relationship can flourish.
In the beginning it was just me and my first born. She was so special and we had so much fun. Then through some very difficult times my wings held tightly around and cushioned her so her ride wouldn't be too bumpy. Then second born was hatched and we landed in a new nest. My wings spread round both of them and held them close as I built up our nest. Through ups and downs I held our nest together and grew my little chickadees.
Then one day Mr Doris flew in and his wings wrapped around us all. By then first born was nearly nine and second born was four years old. For the first time in my life I felt truly safe. That I could let go. And so I did. But letting go means letting go and I think first born felt it. I didn't mean it to and I think she has been fighting me ever since. Not that she expresses exactly what it is but there is an underlying anger.
Perhaps going off to fly where she wants, and making her own nest, will help her find what she is looking for. I hope that my first born can rediscover the love she and I had and that she can fly home freely. So many hopes and dreams.
Just second born now in the nest. Bursting with testosterone and doing his own thing. I feel the need to stretch out my wings and to hold him in lest he flies off too, but more than ever I need to let go. It is very difficult being mummy bird.
Thank goodness for Mr Doris. One day, before too long, it will just be us and he makes me feel so safe. And I hope my little chickadees will feel good to fly home to us occasionally. So many hopes and dreams.